What if?
by Dcepeda94
Summary: What if cooler heads had prevailed at the battle of the Trident? What if Robert Baratheon was more mature, and aware of his faults? What if Westeros is ruled by a strong king?
1. Trident

Spread outward on all sides all I could see Was a rolling grassy plain backed up to the rivers that merge to create the trident.

Robert Baratheon sat on his massive war horse at the tip of the Vanguard. 40000 from 4 of the greatest noble houses of the continent of Westeros. All being driven to place him on the Iron throne. Scoffing at the thought of him! Sitting on the throne. He had no wish to sit on a pile of melted iron blades..

No the only desire Robert Baratheon had was to find his missing betrothed. The woman he loved.

The man responsible for taking the love of his life, and then subsequently the death of her father and eldest brother, sat astride across on his own Great War mount at the shores of the trident. Rhaegar Targaryen.

Rage and something more flowed through every vein in his body, for the man that took lyanna Stark from him.

No, it was impossible

No, Robert was many things but he wasn't a fool. Lyanna was never the typical lady of noble birth. She was known for being fierce, passionate, and the best equestrian in the North. No he knew that she had not been kidnapped like Peter Baelish had claimed.

The war so far, from the battles at the ruins of Summerhall, to the battle of the Bells, and the following skirmishes had been fueled by the murder of a warden and his heir.

The Mad King had demanded the head's of Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon, for conspiracy of treason. truthfully that was the reason we had brought the realm to this point.

Gazing out over the tens of thousands of small Folk, various Knights, and Nobles hailing from four of the regions of Westeros. Confident eyes shone brightly back at him. Some from Determination, and acceptance or others of fear and anticipation , regardless they were looking for encouragement from the man they were going to Crown King.

Taking a deep breath and shaking himself of his wandering thoughts.

" John, Ned!" His deep baritone rang out to his foster father and Foster brother. Turning towards his banner men he called,

" someone bring me half a dozen camp chairs, and a table!" Surprised Grunts we're all the indication his orders were being followed.

" John send a rider out for a parlay with dragon. Tell him to bring no more than two guards, and we will meet in the middle." He instructed, gesturing to a clear area on a a slight rise some hundreds of yards forward.

Surprised, going by the look on Neds face, Robert noted,

" Robert what in the seven Hells are you talking about?" Ned exclaimed. Urging his grey stallion towards the Baratheons.

" Before we start killing, pitting family against family, fight'n each other, I want to know why." Was all he responded with.

" so be it." Jon replied, already setting the orders in motion.

Robert reach around to his saddle bag to bring out a flag of parlay, tying it off around the tip of his lance, he handed it to the young man Jon had gathered to mark the meeting.

Watching the young squire ride out, he turned and raised his voice, " at ease men! Shit,piss eat or drink! This might jist take awhile." A general grumble agreement sounded around him. Men dropping unto the ground. Others waiting for their sergeants commands.

Gazing out to the field, watching the boy approached the enemy lines, a representative in Targaryen colors rode out to meet the squire. Time passed as the messages were exchanged and the squire turned his horse about and burst into a Canter towards his waiting liege.

Ned solemn and quiet at his side and Jon with his face scrunched up beside him, they waited. Not but the sound of general clatter and chatter of a 40 thousand strong force can make.

As soon as the boy returns he began to speak quickly, "sire! He agrees to meet, two kingsguard will attend!"

The three Lords turned to each other and nodded.

"Thank you, take your place in formation son." Jon's voice called over the murmurs from behind them, to the squire.

Robert gave Ned a slap on the shoulder, "It must seem strange, me acting with a cool head all of a sudden, but Ned," he took a breath his voice dropping to a whisper."I need to know."

The Stark graced him with a nod of understanding.

Just then The men sent to gather the stools and table arrived. Panting from there quick run from the base camp fulfilling their lords order.

Robert, Grunting in thanks, motioned the men forward and took the gear himself and set his steed at a trot out toward the no man's land.

Seeing this, Jon and Ned followed keeping pace by his side. Glad he had his closest confidants as his advisors they made it quickly to level spot just at the halfway mark of the two armies.

Jon pulled out their sigils and placed the standards a few feet behind their set sitting place. The golden stag on a Black field resplendent in the morning light, the Arryn blue back ground with a silver falcon and half crescent moon, and snarling grey direwolf of a black field. Placing out the table, three chairs on either side, half dozen cups and a jug of watered down wine. Silently thanking the men for bringing the wine Ned filled their cups and sipped in silence with his companions.

They didn't have to wait long as three Horsemen with the three headed dragon standard moved swiftly towards the men. A silver haired prince at the head, and two white clad kingsguard knights at his heels.

"Prince Rhaegar." Robert called in greeting, forcing his voice to a calm rumble, standing as they approached cautiously.

"Lord Robert." Was the reply, the man's own tone was of weary surprise. "This was an unexpected, but welcome surprise. When the emissary informed me of your wish to parlay."

the silver prince continued as he settled across from his Baratheon cousin.

" there is near 80 thousand men, from green boys to hard veterans, and peasant levies on this field." He began to explain his seemingly impulsive decision.

" Many of our people have died in the few short months since this War began, since we were forced to pick up arms. As we speak my brothers are starving in our home surrounded on all sides, while a flower tourneys and feasts outside their walls. A woman was taken seemingly against her will, then her father and brother murdered, their men butchered. While we have tasted both victory and bemoaned defeat equally." He paused to drink letting his words seep.

"Before we lead our men unto another field of Butchery let me ask you, Prince Rhaegar, why? Why did you take her?" His voice taking a hint of anger, but mixed with sorrow.

A dozen eyeballs grew in size as they took in the words of the normally boisterous and arrogant young Lord.

" ser Barristan, Ser Lywen leave us for now."

"Jon, Ned would you please do the same."

They requested of their companions.

Each went to protest, though the looks sent their way by their leaders quelled anymore outburst from either party.

Once they were alone, the violet-eyed prince began to speak. His hands gripping the pewter cup.

" It began at the tourney of Harrenhal, a year and a half ago. Lyanna, She was the Knight of the Laughing tree." He revealed.

"When the king in his paranoia ordered the knight seized, I went to search as was expected of me.

Near the river I came across a a young woman removing steel plate and tossing it in to the water, cursing as she struggles with the grieves." Rhaegar's voice took on an almost wistful tone.

Robert poured the prince more wine and passed it to the man as he continued.

" she was lovey, fierce and defensive as I called out to her Robert. I made it clear there was no way she was going to be arrested. as we spoke she told me why she felt compelled to compete as a knight. It was Honor, to unhorse this gaggle of ignorant boys that attacked her friend on the road to the tourney. Knowing I could never turn such a young woman to my father I swore to protect her Secret."

Robert stared at the man his eyes wide, and a knowing grin stretched across his clean shaven face. He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Lyanna the fierce she-wolf.

" that's why you crowned her queen of love and beauty isn't it?" Robert stated, realization hitting him.

"Yes, we met in secret before the end of the tournament and fell in love Robert, and swore to write one another. I shouldn't have had those feelings as I was married to Elia, but there was no love for us it was an arranged marriage. Elia is a dear friend, we know each other, but there was no love, she knew about Lyanna and approved of an annulment so long as Aegon stays as my heir.

Through Ravens we wrote each other and planned to elope, she had no wish to marry you, Robert. She raged about the whoring, your drinking, and the bastard daughter you sired in the Vale."

Each word cut deeper into The Baratheons Heart, anger rose quickly but it was the shame of knowing it was true that hurt the most.

" She saw you Robert with a different whore every night during the tournament. You swore you loved her but couldn't stay celibate even while she was there in front of you." The prince finished.

" You didn't kidnap her." It was a statement, Roberts voice verging on despair and shamed of the truth.

" No cousin, I did not!" Rhaegar's voice gained an edge, sick and tired of being called a rapist.

Rhaegar looked at the man across from him, taking a breath to calm himself.

Robert lifted his head from his hands and asked, " she is with child isn't she? You already married, the annulment complete "

Rhaeger tensed, but gave a jerk of his head and said, "Yes, it's true. Arthur, Oswell, and Gerold Hightower stood witness as the high septon presided over the ceremony, they are protecting her and the unborn child right now."

Robert Baratheon's head fell into his hands, and tried to choke down his sobs of sorrow.

"Rober…" The prince began before he was cut off.

"Does she love you?" The strained voice of the visibly distraught man rang softly.

"Yes..and I her. By the Gods, and I her." Rhaegar swore.

The young men sat there in each others company for what seemed like a lifetime, but was only a handful of minutes before Robert spoke again, his emotions still raw.

"There has to be concessions if I am to bend the knee to you, and only you. " he said softly, his voice strengthening as he did so.

" Obviously your father has to go. No negotiating that. He killed a warden and their heir. I'm not asking you to kill your own father, but allow Ned Stark to decide his fate. regardless you will take the iron throne immediately. No repercussions, no reprisal against the lord and people who have risen up. Take Jon Arryn as your hand, he's one of the wisest men I've ever met and it will quell any dissent in the vale. My brother Renly or Stannis will stay as your guest in King's landing. The Tully's are married in to the Vale and North, they will follow their family's decisions."

Taking a breath Robert spoke again. "I formally pronounce that I dissolve any betrothal that may exist between myself and Lady Stark."

With that spoken Robert stood and rubbed away the sorrow from his face and waited for the prince's response.

Standing as well the Prince spoke.

" I accept all terms, Robert Baratheons, Lord Paramount of the stormlands."

relief flooded the prince's voice.

dropping to a knee he swore his oath, " I Robert Baratheon Lord Paramount of the stormlands lord of Stormsend hereby swear fealty to my King Rhaegar Targaryen the first of his name from this day to my last, I shall follow you."

Placing his hands on his cousin's shoulders the prince completed the oath of fealty,

" I swear upon the old gods and the new to serve the realm and All its peoples from this day to my last, rise my lord".

Rising just as two sets of bewildered men arrive back.

"Robert!" Neds angry voice shouted out.

"Wait!" He shouted back, drowning out the protests of his enraged friend.

Quickly explaining himself to his best friend, and addressing the concerns of both men. There was silence.

"Prince Rhaegar, " Stark addressed the man, turning his attention towards him.

" I will have justice for my father and brother."

He stated. His voice booking no argument.

" So be it, I cannot kill my own father, but he will no long sit the iron throne, you have my oath. For peace I will allow you to decide his fate. "

Rhaegar confirmed in resolution. The kingsguard heard the claim, loud and clear.

Rhaegars's head snapped towards the two men. Eying them intently.

"You must choose now, serve me, or die." His voice devoid of all emotion, hating himself for having questioning their loyalty to him.

The men's faces grew pale. Complete understanding shown In their eyes.

After a long moment they knelt together and swore their swords to the king of the realm.

" Long may he reign…"

Repeating the oath of fealty, Jon and Ned sat back down letting the last hour of truths and revelations run through their minds once more.

Neds point of view:

"How are we to finish this war? Aery's still sits the throne, the crownlands and the reach at at his command as well." He reminded his cohorts.

"We need a strategy." Jon agreed.

The men gave their ascent around him. Looking out to the Targaryen army, and coming to a conclusion.

"The standards block out this area of either side as was intended, with their shape and size. " hinting at a budding plan.

" the only reason we saw you kneel Lord Robert was because he were to the sides with the horses." Ser Barristan supplied coming to the same conclusion.

"Deception." Jon's voice rang out softly.

"Kin.."

"Just call me Rhaegar." The prince ordered.

"Right, well Rhaegar, if you take your men back to the Capitol while we march to Stormsend to settle the siege and Mace Tyrell."

" I would join you with my Knights." Intoned Jon Arryn.

"We would strike our banners and March under your own, that way no one knows we are their, my knights will follow you to the Redkeep and help you take it without the worry of divided loyalty of your men." Robert Finished.

"Nearly bloodless, Yes, and Ser Barristan and lord Lonmouth, will join you to Stormsend." The prince said, catching on to the plan.

"We just need to find a way to do this without spies alerting king Aery's. " I threw out to discuss.

"We cage all Ravens, and we March today. That way we can join the hosts and keep ahead of any one messenger." I suggested.

"We set the men marching as soon as we get the camps packed. Lord Stark I will give you a map to where Lyanna is, take 100 men, and I will send someone Ser Gerold will trust to allow you to pass, along with a letter. " the prince explained.

"She would be due to give birth by the time you get there. Gods I want to go myself. " his voice full of frustration.

We agreed to our roles and set to meet once our commanders were notified and speak again on the road.


	2. Cold as a Stark

A/N: Hello all, I would like to thank everyone who has read, fav, followed, and or reviewed so far. This story has been in the back of my mind for a while now. This is going to be heavily AU, many instances with still occur, to allow cannon to play out, but the consequences will be different. Some characters will seem OOC, and you may be right. I am a new writer, so I ask you to be patient with my grammer and style of writing as it is non-existent.

A/N: Only going to say this once. I do not own anything you recognize in this story, whether it is from Game of Thrones or the books.

Chapter 2:

Explaining to the dozens of Northern Nobles and vessel lords that we would in fact not be killing any dragons today, was much more taxing than actually facing the army itself.

While breaking the news, I was apprehensive of their reactions. Why wouldn't I be?

My face set in stone, voice calm and grim, I added my own comments, careful not to reveal more than what they needed to know. while leaning forward with hands planted on the worn oaken table in our central commander tent, I made eye contact with each man.

Really though, their facial, and body expressions told me everything I needed to know.

Most looked almost relieved, shoulders drooping as if an immense burden had been lifted from them. Though not surprising as many of these lords had family members, some close, and others distant on the other side of that field today.

Lords Bolton, Blackvyne, and Bludhaven, each wore carefully constructed masks of indifference.

Roose Bolton, who stood facing my direction, was a tall thinly built man of around my own age. His eerie soft voice and dead fish like pale blue eyes made most anyone around him uncomfortable. It was a tactic, a very skillfully honed way of keeping his peers and inferiors on edge. Just as he intended.

Out of all the noble lords from the North, father always told us when we were young that under no circumstance, does a Stark of Winterfell show weakness in front of a Bolton.

Their storied history as house Starks bloody rivals from centuries of conflict, as the Red Kings.

Grandfather Rorrick Stark had three rules when dealing with Bolton. First never allow a Bolton to marry into the family, ever. The Bolton's should never be trusted for the fostering of a Stark, period. When the flayer's seem docile, charming, or overly friendly, prepare for a dark and bloody war. Winter has come.

The house of Blackvyne, is wealthy, as rich from trade as the loyal Manderly's on the eastern coast. The taxes and tithes the Warden receive per quarter were nothing to scoff at for sure.

None actually knew how full the coffers were in Winterfell, but the lord and heir.

There is a reason why father was resolute in saying "a Stark must always be in Winterfell", all his sons learned that lesson young.

"No wife, stewards, and certainly no maesters." He would harp, pounding lordly knowledge into our stubborn heads.

Even Benjen who unfortunately had to endure fathers teaching without his brothers.

Ben l. As my heir, ruled in my absence, like a true Stark.

Father had said that the Blackvyne's were a prickly sort, as they ruled the entirety of Sea Dragon Point and the villages and minor lords located there. They held one major city the size of Lannisport, Vainport and it thrived, a massive venue for economy to flourish.

As descendants of house Stark, from a second son of a thousand year's past that married into the dying line of the Black clan. Who were famous in their own right, for their initial support of the original Night's Watch kept it afloat.

The Night's Watch even wore black clothing to show their gratitude. The head of their large noble clan is Estel Blackvyne. a man who is in his late 40s, was stern and quiet, full head of midnight black hair and calculating grey eyes. When he spoke men quit their mindless jabbering and listened.

He was one of my three trusted commanders in this war.

The Bludhaven's were closely related family though, the current lord, my uncle on my mother's side, was a cautious man. Tyne Bludhaven.

Though father always seemed weary around them, never one to break formal protocols when dealing with the family. They were polite, but formal people, with their foreign weapons, culture, and appearance stood out wherever they went.

They ruled part of Cape Kraken, as the Flints held the cliffs to one side of the plateau, they held the rest. Protected by the neck to the east, and the high cliffs bordering the sea around them, they became the western coast's shield against reavers.

Strangely to some southern nobles, their serfs, who became warriors were treated as respected lords, instead of just common landed knights. Because if proven to be valiant and intelligent in battle, a serf could gain notoriety and be granted a surname and raise a house of their own, as my mother used to explain about her families code of honor.

Hailing from across the Sunset sea, an Island nation built on a warrior's code. We are told it was a brutal, merciless civil war ravaged land of immense beauty.

Near a hundred twenty years ago, they arrived with 2 dozen ships or so, rowing up the saltpans where the Stark forces battled during the Dance of Dragons. The army at the time was out numbered and battle weary. Stubborn and unrelenting the lord of Winterfell planned on fighting to the last man, when these strange warriors came to their aid. Strange, but incredible warriors, armed with long curved blades, demon shaped masks and helms and helped pushed the opposing force back. Why they chose to support the rough looking Northmen, no one but those there knew

.

The Warlord that lead these men was given vast empty lands and titles after the war, for his aid. Soon their people began learning our language and customs as they adapted to life in the North.

There people took on Westerosi names and even their warlord took the name of Bludhavan, from the ancient castle given to him.

I had only met my mother's sire once before he died, a year before I left to go to the Vale. A stern, but brilliant man my mother had said. I remember him arguing for Brandon and I to be fostered at Bludhaven Castle, alongside our cousins, so we could become warriors like our ancestors. However father didn't allow it, preferring to send me east to the Vale, and Brandon to stay in Winterfell.

I remember my disappointment, I wanted to learn how to use that curved blade as a boy.

Only the obnoxious giant.. Jon Umber attempted to put up any actual protest."What kind of pansy ass sister fucking Tar--" he began to rage, before I cut off the flow of vulgarity with a raise of my hand, and shut that shit down.

'I am so tired of these arrogant fucks.' I thought before raising my voice in warning.

"The decision is final Jon! You have my word, is that not enough Umber? It's been swore that I will be the judge, jury, and executioner for the mad king, I swear on the old gods and the new!" Snarling at the burly giant. My blood roared, the wolf's blood they call it, I've never felt so pissed.

Full on glaring at the man, his face frozen in shock, as were every man in the room.

"Ned Stark rarely gets agitated, but you did the one thing I never could! You've got the quiet wolf ready to rip your Gods be damned throat out!" A familiar voice roared in laughter from behind me.

Robert. Of course, we should have been moving out already.

"Ready the men, no more delaying, move!" I demanded, the edge still there.

A resounding "Aye!" Rang out, a few chuckles as the Umber lord looked gobsmacked and gave a salute and shouted "Hell yeah! Lets kill some sissy southrons!"

'Those masks of indifference broke. I surprised even them with my outburst.' I thought to myself as I turned towards the servants and gave the commands to pack up the large tent.

"Ned." Robert called as I strode from the tent, moving towards my own equipment, quickly packing the few things I would take with me.

"What?" My exasperated tone, clearly being picked up by my foster brother.

"Lord Tully and the Blackfish are joining Prince Rhaegar's host with Jon." He began to explain, snatching up supplies of his own, placing them in saddlebags.

"The Frey's were spotted half an hour ago, Tully isn't happy, I can tell you that much. They are being ordered to follow me to Storm's End. Frey's heir has been blabbering on and on, it's going to be a nightmare." He rambled.

I took a moment to glance at my friend, his face showed the days worth of turmoil, the sorrow clear in his eyes.

"I am sorry." Robert spoke lowly as we made eye contact.

"You did the right thing. At least I believe you did, I'm sorry too, about my sister.." I said, grabbing his shoulders. Trying to convey my empathy.

He gave me an uneasy smile and spoke again,

"It was my fault from the start, you know Ned, I'm going to find that babe in the vale, and raise her in my household, she's a damn Baratheon afterall!" His voice growing in strength, his statement took me off guard however.

'Maybe this will change him for the better?' I couldn't help but wonder as we swung up into our saddles and trotted to the front of the gathering formations of men.

\--

Two hours later..

It was past noon by the time we lead the troops from the shores of the Trident.

Jon to my left, with his household knights and direct bannermen of the Eerie, near 8,000 knights, and common men.

Robert to my right, with the majority of our forces under his command, 30,000 men, to join 10,000 of the Targaryen's for a harsh march south.

I headed the last couple thousand men, all light horse for our journey to the Dornish desert. We would ride hard, stopping only to rest the horses, then eat in the saddle. The small force that will go to the Tower of Joy with me would break off from our host a day from our destination, as a deterrent from some up jumped marsh lord thinking us an easy target.

The prince had sent a messenger to meet him today, we won't have time before we disperse at Duskendale in a few days time.

I turned and gestured for lord Blackvyne, and Bludhaven to join me.

"Uncle take command, the prince has requested for me to speak with him."

He gave a sharp nod of acceptance, competent, and loyal, thankfully. One of my three commanders.

"Estel, I would like you and Lord Reed to join me." It was phrased as a request.

" Of course My lord. " his only response as he turned to alert Howland to come forward.

Nodding in approval, I soon lead the duo of commanders around the tens of thousands of black and red troops to reach the silver prince. His Kingsguard was the first glance we saw, that impractical white enamel armor. Then, briefly the prince who wore a three headed dragon etched upon black armor, that had rubies for eyes, and encrust across as their scales. Gaudy, damn it must cost a fortune.

The general rabble of lick-spittle, boot licking, yes men meandered around us as we approached the Targaryen and his retinue of commanders. The glares sent my way were far less than I expected, Though a couple with puffed up faces twisted in anger, attempted to block our path.

'Though I'd welcome a chance to let loose some tension if one of these cock-fools got too ballsy.' An unusually vindictive smile turned up the side of my lips.

' Dammit, I spend too much time around Robert.' I chastise myself, face returning to its usual grim mask.

"Gentlemen, if you don't move out the Warden of the North's way, I will personally whip you until your backs are in ribbons!" A feral like growl came from our left side as a stocky muscular man marched up to the ignorant knights, his hands gesturing a mock whipping, zealously.

A hightower adorned his breastplate.

With a grateful nod we continued, not stopping to converse until finally making it to the prince.

"Your Grace." I called in my usual tone. Too tired to think about my emotions toward this man.

" Lord Eddard, please join me." He motioned for me to follow as he rode ahead, away from a gaggle of men bragging and gossiping like old women.

"This is a letter Lya asked me to try and give to you "

Taking it from the man, I cautiously ripped it open to see what she might have written.

Ned,

I was foolish, we shouldn't have acted like this, it was thoughtless and reckless. Father and Bran, it hurts so much Ned. It is all my fault, i didn't think! I just couldn't marry that damn whoremonger, I know he was your friend, I know you must hate me.

I don't understand how this all went wrong! I sent a letter to Riverrun to give to Brandon before the wedding with the Tully girl. The messenger returned to us and said Lysa Tully swore to give it to him!

I can't bear to see my brother and husband try to kill each other. I am so sorry that I caused this. I know its foolish, but I truly love him, I love Rhaegar. He is a good man!

Please Ned, everytime I go to sleep I see their faces, I can't lose anyone else.

-Love Lyanna

" Fuck." I swore, image be damned.

'Something isn't right, I know this is Lyanna's handwriting. What is this about Lysa Arryn?!"

" Sire?"

Estel's voice Shook me out of my shock.

Wordlessly I handed the paper to him, and then to Howland.

Their faces paled in realization.

"It was a betrayal, someone suppressed this information." Howland summarized in short.

' But who?' Was the unasked question.

We rode for a time, neither of my men spoke, the Prince, soon to be King, stared off in front of us, lost in thought, probably brooding.

'Jon. I need to talk to Jon.' I thought, at last, but then rethought it. He married the girl, he is even infatuated with her already.

Something didn't feel right, why would she not give the letter to Brandon? What would Lysa Tully gain from betraying her soon to be good brother?

"Ned." Howland's call caught my attention, the urgency in his tone clear.

"Yes?" Slowing my mount to ride beside his horse.

"While we were at Riverrun, I spent most of the time away from the southern lords as you know, in the Godswood." He began, the other two men listening to his low voice as they also came closer.

"The servants spoke of how Brandon cut down that Baelish boy for Caitlyn's hand. They spoke of how much he was obsessed with her." We all nodded in understanding, not sure where this was going.

"I am a small man, my Lord. Most people, even servants dismiss my presence. While I was leaving the Godswood I remember hearing kitchen maids gossip about Lady Arryn. "

We all took notice of his stature, many Lords except the North one's frequently ignored him. The Northmen knew that when a Reed spoke you listened.

"I thought it was just the normal rumor and gossip tosh that most kitchen wenches spread. However, I remember that they were talking about how the Lady Lysa had been locked in her room for weeks, ever since the young Baelish boy had been sent away. They said that while he was on his sickbed, Lysa visited him. They said, Ned, that she was with child. that Lord Tully was furious, and forced her to drink moontea. One even mentioned she heard it straight from the lady that provided it, as she was the herbalist in CrossRiver village."

No one spoke as we each processed the information.

Howland Reed was not a tall man, or very strong, but he was honorable and loyal, his word was to be trusted.

"We do nothing, until this war is settled." Estel's voice cut through the silence, like a knife through butter.

Indignantly I shot him a confused look.

He pointedly gave me a look back, that seemed to say;

'let me finish.'

It was Rhaegar who spoke up.

"Lord Blackvyne is correct. We must have stability before we seek out accusations, especially against the new Lady of the Eerie.

Once we have the Red Keep under our control, and the Tyrell's beaten, we can proceed with discretion, my lords. "

It was sound, it was logical. It still irked me though.

"It's tabled for now." I said, my eyes making contact with each man.

Voice cold as the Wall, I continue.

"But, when the realm is under control, I will know the truth of this, my brother and father are dead, and she may be involved."

The prince gave a brief nod of acceptance, his indigo eyes held a fire there, one I'd yet seen before this.

We soon turned around to rejoin the main host, our guarded escort reforming the ranks around the prince, and in turn us.

Robert and Jon, and a few of their advisors each joined us as we hashed out logistics as we rode, the Kings road taking us the same direction for a day yet.


	3. Kingsfall

A/N: Once again, I ask that you be patient with my grammer and spelling, I am writing via my smart phone currently.

Chapter 3:

King's Landing, one of the greatest cities built in the last 300 years. Founded on the shores of the Blackwater Bay. Architects of great renown had been enlisted to create this city, based around the fletchling Red Keep home of King Aegon Targaryen, the conqueror of the seven kingdoms of Westeros.

When it was completed 240ish years prior it was one of the greatest sites in modern Westerosi history. The keep held the hue of a red sunset, the streets cobbled, people sophisticated, and the greatest Craftsman gathered in the epitome of modernism. Unfortunately as the city continued to expand after the Conqueror had passed, the care in which the city had been imagined, planned and executed had began to wane. The sewer systems incompatible with the size and population of the growing Capitol city.

Successive Kings began to focus on the Lesser Pursuits, religious buildings, dubious orders that siphoned gold and silver like a boat with a leak taking on water without a plug. The masterfully built homes, businesses, wash houses, markets, amphitheaters and coliseums soon began to be neglected by the crown.

The city of Kings, modernism, Arts and of great minds began to rot slowly but surely as the decades passed and the rulers began to become lesser and lesser men. War and foolishness to take tts toll on.

Now near 300 years have passed since the Conqueror landed with the dragons of their sigils and took the continent by storm. Now even miles out from sea to land the stink of backed up sewage, human waste, and various undistinguished smells wafed farther and farther. The heat of the South ripens the stench to unimaginable degrees.

'Gods I hate this city.' I couldn't help but think.

Dragonstone was my home, not this cesspool of corruption and snakes. But this was my City now, my future, and the future of my children.

"Once this is settled, the First thing I would like to do Lord Hand, is fixing the sewer systems, rid us of this horrid smell."

Rhaegar mused to the elder man beside him, astride a massive spotted war horse.

"Will there be enough coin your Grace?"

An apt question from the aging man.

" My father may be a horrible King, however the Treasury's books are in pristine condition, I can assure you." I chuckle quietly to my second in command.

"That is a relief." He sighed. "We will need it to smooth over the inevitable disputes once this is over."

A man that just so happens to connect all the former rebel fiefs via marriage will be able to stabilize the country quite quickly at my side.

A small smile graced my lips at the thought.

'Baratheon was right. Jon Arryn will be the single greatest addition to my new small council, with his wisdom we should be able to run the country smoothly.' I couldn't believe it, really I still find it hard. How did the arrogant, selfish Robert Baratheon become such a wise man? I suppose he may have always held that intelligence, Eddard Stark didn't seem the type to suffer fools after all.

No, Robert had been a whoremonger and drunk, that was undeniable. The war must have forced him to mature as it has us all.

My actions and carelessness allowed my father to murder my wife's family, I had been just as immature as Robert.

My face twisted in a grimace at the truth.

'Be honest, never lie to yourself.' My mother would say or ' If your council agrees to everything that you say is right, find others, they are lying.'

\--

We were coming within an Few hours distance from reaching the city walls, when something began to tingle at the back of my mind.

'Something is wrong.' The thought hit me, what could it be. Turning towards my wise companion i mentioned my unease to him. Lord Arryn assured me I was correct in my worry as he felt it as well. His wrinkled face showing his worry, quickly donning his helm after pause of thought.

Just as we were about to order men to speak to the scouts, one came galloping towards us at top speed, his brown river horse pounding the soft earth as it raced closer and closer.

"Sire! Lion's to our left flank! 20,000 Wasteland troops!" He shouted.

"Tywin, damn you." I mutter under my breath, then raised my voice to ask For anymore detail, while Jon Arryn shouted orders left and right, quickly wheeling our forces to the left, sending a call for all heavy horse forward, to charge in necessary. Standards at the ready, if its a fight Tywin Fucking Lannister wants its death he will get.

" Lord Jon, send the advanced party at full speed toward the capitol tell them to fly the three headed dragon and send ser Connington to led them, tell them to go straight to the keep, protect my children and the princess, they have their orders apart from that!" I commander, a knot of dread in my gut. Lannnister is ruthless, he could be doing the same.

In retrospect if I hadn't done so, my family may not have lived.

Hearing the war horns of the Lannister army sound, We marched to meet them.

Half an hour later I begin to see the Lion standard flying high above the rest of Westerland banners.

Rows of footmen are set to the middle, the archer auxiliary to their left and the horse to the right.

The land we are currently on is lush flat grasslands, stretching miles in all direction, farming land.

The cadance and drummers beat out the ominous but exhilarating rhythm of war. I can see the men begin to tense, their weapons at the ready, shields held loft incase of immediate use.

Searching for the old lion himself I gazed intently upon their formation. It seemed useless until a dozen men broke through the Lions formation and made towards us. Nodding to Lord Arryn and several other prominent nobles we galloped to meet halfway.

Thinking to myself, 'This ends one of two ways, submission or death, Lannister will ganer no concessions from me.'

As we approached I could make out Tywin and his three brothers, Gerion, Tygett, and Kevan by his side. Lefford, Crakehall, Westerling, and several others.

All but the Lannisters look incredibly nervous, obviously not expecting to meet a massive army enroute to the capitol.

The fact that our outriders hadn't seen them, or theirs our own host, means no news of our pact with rebel forces had made it out, a small miracle.

"Prince Rhaegar." Tywin Lannister greeted in his calm superior way.

This was the man I learnt governance from as a young boy, and as a young man.

"Lord Tywin, have you come to join our king?"

The voice of lord Rykker questioned pointedly.

"Prince Rhaegar, we were made to believe that you had gone to the Trident to defeat the Usurper Baratheon. Yet I see 50,000 men at your back." The old Lion stated, voice neutrally probing, and casually ignored the question.

"And yet, Lord Tywin, you are here with the entirety of the Westerland force's headed in the same direction, I wonder after all, why you had not been at the Trident?'

Jon Arryn's voice cut through, silence permeated through the air. The western lord stopped in his tracks. The looks of bewilderment across the many faces would bring a smile to my face for many years.

Tywin's head snapped towards the still helmeted Lord Arryn, his eyes growing wide at the realization, a hint of fear In his eye quite possibly?

Jon reached up with a sigh and removed his great helm, allowing all to see the elderly Lord of the Eerie in the afternoon light.

"You pronounced Robert Baratheon King." Kevon Lannister stated nervously. Twisting the reins of his steed in hand, glancing at his brothers in worry.

"Aye, I had, until the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands Robert Baratheon bent the knee to his chosen king, Rhaegar Targaryen."

"Impossible, you took his woman." Lefford shouted indignantly, pointing a stubby finger my way. The men behind me bristled at this insult .

I grew tired of the back and forth jabs and spoke up.

"The North, Vale, Riverlands, and the Stormlands have pledged their loyalty to me, and have sworn their swords to my name. You shall do the same Lord Lannister or else I promise you! That one of us will not leave this field alive." I stated calmly, my tone never going away from carefully measured confident.

A long moment passed as Westerland lords shot looks of dread around them.

" Baratheon rides in your host?" Tywin asked quietly.

"He has gone to lift the siege of Storm's end. He has renounced all claim to the throne and has sworn his fealty to me as his King." I explained, emphasizing the last portion.

Taking the hint, Lannister looked towards his brothers and shared looks of resigned acceptance.

"Very well, what does your father the King command?" He intoned back.

"Nothing. King Aery's is unfit to rule, you will swear fealty on this field alongside all your men, and then we shall march unto the capitol." I ordered.

I could see his calculating green eyes narrow in anger, to be commanded by the very prince he once taught, the son of the one who had wronged repeatedly.

"Very well." His answer short. Swinging off his gorgeous black Mount as I did the same, ser Lewyn a step in front of me.

"Kneel!" I shouted allowing my voice travel.

Lord Tywin spoke his oath first, followed by his brothers, and the lords that followed them.

\--

Reaching the city took little more than an hour once we had parted from the host, mounted horse travels faster than common foot soldiers.

We reached the Gate of the Gods, banners flying in the wind, the three headed Dragon proud and true. A hundred men behind me as we approached cautiously.

"Who goes there?!" A shout rang from above.

"I am Ser Joseph Connington! We come on orders of his majesty Prince Rhaegar! Open the gate!" I shouted back.

Minutes passed, I soon began to believe they would continue to deny us passage into the city.

But then the gates began to creak and open just enough for our horses to file one by one through. Taking the lead myself I cantered through, hand on my sword just in case.

"My lord, I am Ser Alister Thorne, temporary commander of this gate, I apologize for the delay." The man introduced himself.

"No worries see, we must make haste to the keep. The Prince in but a couple hours away, make sure you do not hesitate for him! " I command seriously.

"We live to serve the Prince my Lord!" A resounding cheer swept around us from the men present, smiles of relief plastered upon their faces.

"If that is true, make sure you remember that today, we serve Prince Rhaegar." I tell the man lowly, making eye contact, and waiting to see his expression.

His eyes widen in understanding, a strong nod of acceptance.

The ser organized a quick escort of a dozen gold cloaks, with strict orders to follow all commands given by me as they come straight from the Prince. The men all agree readily.

Clearly these men had already chosen their King.

We swept through the city streets quickly, no one dared block our way.

Making it to the castle proper, the gates had already been lowered to allow entry. Peculiar.

.

We reached the courtyard as hand of the king met us himself.

"Sers what news do you bring from the front?" His sniveling voice questioned, his hands in the sleeves is piromancer robes.

"We come with urgent news for the Kings ears! " I tell the man, motioning for 3 dozen men to go straight for the maiden vault to protect the princes and royal children. The Golden cloaks stayed with me and the rest of the 3 hundred men of the advanced party.

Looking around I notice very few troops in the area.

"We saw the Banners through the city my Lord, the King wishes to speak to you now."

The Wiseman explained.

" the king has sent many of our troops to the city walls. I am quite glad that you have come to reinforce the keep, the messenger had only been sent a day past requesting men." As he turned to walk away.

Nodding to a couple of men, they rushed forward and tackled the wildfire creator to the ground, a knife to the throat end his miserable life.

"Quick now men." I call as they rush toward the few troops in the square. None bothered to put up a fight, and were knocked out.

"Lets move!" The men streamed through the doors, orders already given to each man prior of their duties.

Turning to the gold cloaks I spoke, "We are to arrest the King and place him in confinement until the Prince arrives to take the throne and end this fucking war." My voice rang out, challenging them to protest. Yet none came, they each readily nodded along, vicious smiles all around.

'He really is a horrid king for these men to turn so readily against him.' I couldn't help but think.

We raced, steel bare towards the throne room, passing a few skirmishes of loyal household guards. None lived but a few moments. This was an assembly of 300 of the most loyal of the Prince's chosen men.

Heaving open the great doors, the sight of Jaime Lannister with his sword bare standing in front of King Aerys with the white cloak around his shoulders.

"What is the meaning of this?!" The scabbed king roared. His gnarled yellow nails and overgrown silver white hair flying as he gestured around.

"Ser Jaime bring me their heads!"

The boy knight looked resolute.

"Enough!" I shouted over the King.

"We are here on orders by Prince Rhaegar. You are to be confined until he arrives, your time as King has ended." I tell the mad king as I walk slowly towards the Kingsguard.

Turning my attention to him I speak to him,

" Prince Rhaegar has deemed it necessary for these actions. He has requested that you serve him now and protect the the former King Aerys while he is confined, to make sure he is safe. " I tell him, trying to convey to him his choices

"You are not here to harm the King?" He asked quietly, so low only I could hear him.

"No, just confine." I confirm.

He paused, I could see the war in his eyes.

"Every Kingsguard has already sworn their loyalty to Prince Rhaegar, your honor will be intact." I press him.

"So be it. Kill every piromancer you see, the king has been planting wildfire through the city." He whispers as he backs towards the throne, quickly sheathing his sword much to the Kings ire.

"What the fuck are you doing? You serve me! You useless lion shit! I'll burn you for this! You'll all burn!" He screamed as men came forward to subdue him as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

I turned and ordered the men to follow Ser Jaime's suggestion.

I turned my attention to the young knight who was still waiting on me.

"Yes?" I question as the look on his face.

"I wish to protect the Prince wife and children, I promised him I would ser." He tells me, a look of regret upon his face.

"So be it. I have sent three dozen men to do so as well, you may take control of their safety, and have them moved to another tower just incase." I tell him, and tell one of my men to join him to alert my men

Instructing the Gold cloaks to man the Gate of the castle, I went off to see if the men had completed their tasks as commanded.

\--

Jaime Lannister:

I rushed through the halls of the Red Keep, upstairs and across arched bridges to reach the Maiden Vault that housed the Royal children and their Princess mother.

The princess a was sweet and beautiful woman, but she was a sickly woman. I needed to get to her now!

We neared the tower as sounds of steel on steel could be heard ringing through the stone pathways.

We turned the last bend and blood bath was all I could see. A mountain of a man, dressed in boiled leather and no helm held unto a massive greatsword with both hands as he swept through three men at once, taking their heads clear off their bodies.

Closer to us was a shorter stockier man in the same armour fending off several of the men the Prince had sent.

Without thinking or hesitating I rushed forward with my longsword drawn and threw myself against the shorter man. He turned just in time to block my first strike. I swung upwards, breaking his guard and opened his throat in a rush of scarlet.

Turning towards the large beast of a man I took a breath and maneuvered forward.

He saw me coming, and roared.

"Go the fuck away!"

Clenching my teeth, I bent my knees and danced under his swing, and stepped around him.

A slash of my bloodied blade sliced through his left thigh. My second swing caught his bicep of his sword arm as I once again ducked his blows.

His growl was fearsome in sound. Like a wounded rabid dog caught in a corner.

I continued to dance around his swings, parrying the ones I couldn't. One in particular would have cut me in half if I hadn't already been moving out of the way.

'Fuck he is strong.' I curse as I desperately braced myself weathering the strike.

Don't let him hit me again. Noted.

Unable to help myself I grinned, this was a fight worthy of a kingsguard.

Ducking left and rolling forward I sprang up behind him, and heaved my blade with all my strength up through the man's neck, severing his spinal cord in one thrust.

I was forced to release my blade as he fell forward, dead.

I panted in exhaustion, gulping air as I sweep my eyes for anymore danger, drawing out my dirk at the same time.

The now reduced number of men stared back at me in awe. I sheathed my knife in annoyance at them.

"Ser..ser Jaime, thank you." A wounded man stuttered, one I didn't recognize.

"Stop gawking we are here to protect the Prince's family!" I shout at them as I moved to retrieve my sword still lodged in the man's neck.

"Ser Connington has given command of the Royal families safety to ser Jaime, we follow his commands now." The knight that followed me told the men around us.

Having to heave with all my might to get it to loosen from his corpse I clean the blade on his leather and moved off to do my duty.

\--

N/A: I welcome respectfully criticism. However if your whole point is to be as rude as you can, then I would ask that you please keep your comments to yourself. As I stated before please be patient with my spelling, grammar, and other insignificant details that can be fixed once it comes to my attention. So for the keyboard Warriors out there, don't be a dick.

I will adress a couple of things that people have mentioned.

Jaime does not recognize either man, simple because he is 14 and has never actually met these minor lords. For this story Clegane and Loche have yet to be knighted or gain any infamy.

Tywin swore loyalty because it was the only choice he had. He had already sent the Cleagane and Co. before he knew the Prince's army was there.

At somepoint I will go back and fix mistakes such as banner colors or spelling.

I am trying to create a different story, may work may not.

Thank you again for everyone who has read, reviewed, fav, or followed.


	4. Storm's End

A/N: Never written a battle scene before, PM any idea's that I need to work on if you want you. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4:

The Stormlands had been aptly named, as the harsh winds and furious instant thunderstorms could turn any trek into an ominous journey. The vivid greenery of the foggy forests to the harsh rocky hills and mountain slopes, it was a beautiful as it was dangerous.

My ancestors had once been the ruling Kings of this fiefdom, a one point all the way to the Blackwater, they were fierce, and proud.

Then the conqueror had landed and brought with him, fire and blood. This conqueror's bastard half-brother Orys Baratheon the one-handed, just another of my lordly ancestors, had slew the Storm King in single combat, leaving a female as the only Durrandon heir. King Argon had ordered his half brother to marry the man's daughter to solidify his hold on the region. House Baratheon had been born of two ancient bloodlines.

Over time the Targaryens and Baratheons had continued to intermarry and so reviving the blood connections of our founders.

The loaded march we had been on for nearly week was beginning to grate on the men's nerves, I knew that as it was testing my own.

Organized In half a dozen columns of men that seemed to stretch endlessly, we marched harder than King Rhaegar's host, so that we would make it within a day of him taking the Capitol. Breaks were given obviously, short but enough before resuming our trek southeast. We had left the Kingsroad a day past, to avoid the enemy scouts and to take a route known only to those of the area, who guided the army thoroughly.

I had ordered our horse, light and heavy to spread out, hunting for game or for enemy spies. You could never be too sure of who was watching, no Reacher lords were in our host.

Prince Oberyrn had been a constant companion alongside Ser Barristan, though our talks were halted at first, we struck up a comradery of sorts. Each experts of our own chosen weapon, skilled at arms and tactics, we were alike in many ways.

We were making terrific time, I knew that and so did the men, yet it doesn't stop the frustration of such hard Marches.

In a day's time we would be coming to Storm's End, and finally relieve my home of that disgusting farce of a siege. But for now, I knew my men would need a good night's worth of rest to prepare themselves.

With this in thought, I mentally reviewed our surroundings, remembering what my father had taught of our geography of our homeland.

Though rugged and rocky, it was perfect to hide large armies on the move.

I forced the men to March for a while past dusk, making our way slowly through a winding valley until it widened into a somewhat open plain in between three of the rugged mountains.

Calling the halt, I set the men to make camp.

"Ser Barristan would you join me please?" I called out. Taking a large breath I swung out of Fury's saddle, my loyal warhorse that had been given to me by my father less than a year before he had passed.

Handing off the reign's to the ever diligent squire I moved towards an open space and began unrolling my medium sized tent.

I had made it known that we would be keeping all the luxury out of our campaign southward when we broke from the King Rhaegar's host.

Ser Barristan stood off to my right, unloading his own tent, his own squire brushing and bedding down their horse's as well.

Soon enough I had completed my task, my nobling squire from house Royce building up a small campfire, and began passing out rations to the men around us.

Looking up from my seat on the ground, next to Ser Barristan I gazed at the multitude of exhausted and silent men, Noble and commoner alike.

A wry smile crossed my face as I thought of the surprise I would give Tyrell the next day. The King didn't try to dissuade away from my intended battle plans. It was not honorable how Mace Tyrell flaunted his pompous ass outside my Castle. Bah. Banquets and tourneys for Fucks sake! My expression must have become twisted as the younger Royce seemed to inch away from me.

"No need to be afraid boy just thinking about my brothers and how they are." I explained with a lie, then with a chuckle at his reddened face.

"If Mace Tyrell had conducted this siege honorably I would attempt to sway you in a more peaceful manner my Lord." Ser Barristan spoke up from my side, his food consumed, and a mug of watered wine in hand.

"It will be nice to finally have at these damn Reachers!" The Prince spoke across from us.

"Thank you for that." I replied cordially, to the famed knight. Chuckling at the contempt in the Dornishman's voice.

"May I ask a question of you Ser?"

"Of course my Lord." He prompted

"How bad is it in the RedKeep? I've heard the rumors, but truly, aunt Rhaella, did he…" my voice trailed off.

Honestly I hadn't thought of her in a long time, not since mother and father had been killed during the storm of shipwrecker's bay.

When I was a young boy, she had always been an ever present individual when we lived with father in the Capitol, as he was the Master of Ships.

I remember her and mother being close, how she always had a smile for Rhaegar, Stannis, and I. I could still recall the beautiful violet eyes, pale silver hair, and dimpled smile.

"Yes." He answered quietly, before continuing with a calming breath.

"The King has not always been mad, you must know that. I cannot say when it truly began, whether when he was held hostage for those years in Duskendale or even before that and the NinePenny war.

Though what I do know is that It killed us all, the Kingsguard, everytime he hurt her, every scream for help that we couldn't answer. Then and now I still curse Aerys to the deepest of the seven bells, and painful death. As I stood silently by as my Queen was brutalized by her own husband and brother, we did nothing." His voice had become bitter and self loathing. Silence permeated through the air.

I didn't reply, I couldn't. If I had heard this even a year prior I would have raged, and screamed and called him a coward.

Yet I knew he only did his duty as his oath demanded. I knew that in my heart he and his fellow knights must be tormented to have served a mad man.

'Ned is rubbing off on me!' I thought before I Said,

"Promise me Ser.." I begin. Taking a breath.

"That you will protect Lyanna, her child, Elia and her own children no matter the cost. Promise me that you will never allow another Mad King to live."

"I swore an oath."

I was about to cut him off in rage, 'an oath'? Yet he continued speaking in a steady voice before I could.

"I swore to King Rhaegar that day on the field, that if the time ever comes that should he ever become his father when I serve him I would strike him down in that moment, damn the consequences. To protect his family, and to protect his people." He ended in almost a whisper.

I relaxed, letting out the air collected in my lungs in relief.

'Yes, that does sound like something Rhaegar would expect from his KingsGuard.'

"May that time never come." I tell him, raising my own mug in salute.

"If you don't I will, my sister has suffered enough embarrassment." Prince Oberyn muttered quietly.

I knew that he and Rhaegar had a very long conversation between them, both before the Trident and the time after. Whatever was said had stayed between them, and no one wished to risk the wrath of the Viper.

The night was spent resting, enjoying time with the men we had all come to befriend, for on the morrow some would never be able to do so again. Soon I begged off to sleep as we would strike camp come mid morning, march half the day it would take to get in position, then finally take the enemy by surprise.

\--

The next morning..

"I will lead the Vanguard myself. Bronze will take the left and Prince Obyrn the right. Ser Barristan will lead the main host in the center, with the heavy calvary following right behind the Van.

Our archers will be commanded by Lord Caron. Lord Ryswell will attack their flank, which is why he and 4000 of our horse left early this morning. " I explained to the gathered lords of the various regions, Ser Barristan, and the Prince at my side.

" We move out now, by an hour before dusk we will attack."

Near a hundred lords of various notoriety surrounds us, all mounted, with faces set in excited or grim anticipation.

Wheeling around Fury I held my hammer high into the sky, slowing bringing ot down in front of me, the order 'March' had been given.

Some would say the hours before a planned battle is more taxing than the actual battle itself, from either worry or stress. Existential life crisis tend to become normal at these times. Others would say the aftermath of a battle is worse, for the injured, or the dead, or those who cannot process what had happened soon become shells of who they once were. Battle Fatigue it was named.

But it's a bit of both I believe, the building of excitement for combat verse the fatigue and realization that so many have died, that you may die. It was a complex, messy thing to bs sure.

I won't lie, I love battle, I live to fight. It is what makes me feel alive, more so than either fucking or wine could ever do.

Soon my blood began to rise, the anticipation building quicker, the time for blood was soon. I could see it in the veteran warriors around me, from the faces of the pikemen and spearmen nearest me, to the noble's on their mounts with their sparkling naive eyes.

Oh yes, today would be a good day. I could finally let my sorrow, my frustrations loose. I could finally calm my ravaged heart with the Hammer and the shield.

Today would be a red day. Yes, today would be a good day!

Several Hours later..

It was nearing evening, the sun not yet hanging too low to be considered dusk but soon it would be.

We trudged slowly over rocky hills in a route step formation, as to keep our approach as silent as we could for as long as we could.

We had stopped the procession an hour pass for all men to quickly take a piss and shit, to lessen the chance of doing so before battle. Some would still loose then bowels but it always helps to give the men a chance to die with their dignity if you can help it.

We had finally reached our destination, the men silently shuffled into their pre-ordered formations, banners held high, blades naked to air. Bowstrings taunt, they were the first to move. Then the vanguard cantered directly behind me as I trotted forward, towards the final hill that separates the enemy's camp and the plateau that Storm's End resides on overlooking the bay.

The archers finished moving into position, waiting for the signal, their commander doing a weapons check, verifying his men were ready, he looked over to me, giving me the affirmative. I gave Lord Caron the go-ahead, as he signaled for them to fire three consecutive volleys of arrows, as they stood up from their crouched positions on top of the hill. At the same time I raised my hammer high up into the air once more, however this time swiftly brought it down, urging Fury forward he broke out into a gallop.

Suddenly the rush of fresh sobering air mixed with the evening fog crashed against my antlered helm. The air filled my nares and mouth as I lowered myself more compactly over Fury, shield brought in close and held in the same hand as my reigns, hammer tucked in, but at the ready to swing.

I could hear the horn bellow, and the drums of war crash, and then! Ah yes, the panicked screams of the enemy being pelted by our Marcher lord's bowmen.

A roar ripped through my throat as another volley landed, a mere 100 yards from our charge, pounding into the front line of hastily erected spearmen.

With an ungodly crash worthy of thunder of the mightiest storms we collided in a flurry of steel and wood, of flesh and blood.

My mind blanked. No thoughts but of where my hammer fell. The first man to fall was a Tarley levy, his face was crushed under the weight of dull steel.

My second crumpling under the hooves Fury's charge, after a back-handed swing.

Pushing further into their lines, my hammer fell steadily, my Vanguard brothers at my side, our charge had broken their attempted barrier.

Everywhere I looked the enemy fell, it seemed almost pitiful.

A knight in full plate, came rushing at me, his great sword arching to take me off my horse.

Quickly I raised my shield and blocked the man's strong swing.

He backed off, as if goading me into dismounting to face him on equal terms.

'This is a knight worth fighting' I couldn't help but grin.

Complying, I suddenly hopped out of my saddle crashing onto the ground next to Fury.

Stalking forward, I circled the knight, though I could see no indication as to whom he served, I could see he was a professional.

He made the first move, stepping forward, a double hand over head swing. I didn't bother blocking, just dodged swiftly to the side, bringing my warhammer from the right, parallel from the ground I hammered his left arm, causing him to drop the greatsword.

Stunned, he didn't move quickly enough to dodge the next instant my hammer caved his helmet into his skull.

'Okay, maybe not a professional. A green boy more like.' I scoff, moving towards Fury. batting away levies, crushing them like bugs under my boots.

I don't remember how much time had passed, but it was near fully dark at this point.

After dispatching another knight in the flowery rose of the Tyrell's I noticed the lack of bodies coming our way. Looking around I saw the men had begun to lay down their arms, surrendering.

'What the fuck?'

"Lord Baratheon!" I heard from my left, swinging around to see who had called out.

It was Ser Barristan, his white plate covered in blood and grime.

"The Tyrell's have given the flag of surrender! Their men are running!" He shouted, his voice almost hoarse.

"Aye, I see that, have the nobles rounded up, and the maesters begin to treat the wounded, all the wounded." I call out, adding the last portion, knowing it was the right thing to do.

Looking for my companions, I saw them right behind me, some 10 feet away, each still hail and alive.

My squire had fought right behind me the entire time, killing left and right, that boy had earned his knighthood. His father would be a proud man.

Many of my men at arms saluted me as we rode past, headed towards my family, my ancestral home, Storm's End.

The reacher lords were lined up, their weapons still on them, as they knew they had been beaten.

Hell, Mace Tyrell looked as if he hadn't even gotten to draw his sword, hiding back behind his men most like.

Nodding to Lord Bolton, who had it seemed taken charge of the prisoners, we moved under the raised gates and battlements to reach the inner courtyard where my brother Stannis stood.

Stannis, gods that boy looked horrible! Skinny, and gaunt, his eyes set on me as I dismounted, walking towards him.

"My Lord, Storm's End is yours." His grim voice acknowledges, teeth grinding as usual.

I didn't bother saying anything, and just swept the annoying sullen brother into a crushing hug.

"Thank the gods you are alright." My voice was low, emotion straining my normally loud tone.

He was taken aback, I could tell. Unsure of what to do, he finally settled with wrapping his arms around me and said,

"Thank you Robert." It was quiet, but I could tell he meant it.

Releasing him him with a squeeze of his shoulder I turned towards our prisoners and men o' war that escorted them.

"You will kneel, and swear fealty in from of me in proxy for his Highness King Rhaegar Targaryen lord of the Seven Kingdoms, the Andals, the First Men and the Rhoynar." My voice boomed at full volume, filling every crevice with my proclamation.

"If you had not mocked me and my people by this farce of a siege, the King would have allowed a peaceful ending to this conflict. However you not only starved my family, you taunted and dishonored them by your foolishness." I yell at Mace Tyrell, his face pale as a ghost in honor to gods fright.

"You will be held as a guest for one day as my men distribute food and see to the wounded, your men will be well taken care of, I swear that by the old and new." I finish, relaying as to why they had to be held, well that was so my men didn't tear them apart.

We have rather stormy tempers here in the Stormlands after all.

Lord Mace Tyrell officially swore his life and house to that of the crown, his men followed suit immediately.

\--


	5. Fast Travel

A/N: Story is begining to move forward now. These next few chapters are going to lead to several time jumps.

Through the Crownlands they rode, passing quickly through plains of lush fertile farmland. Without meeting any significant enemy forces, the horsemen made incredible time. After several hard days of riding the 2 thousand Northmen atop the famed Northern Ryswell bred mounts, 500 Dornish spears on swift sand steeds, and some 500 Rivermen atop Riverland bred horses had soon made it to the Reach's eastern border, along the Stormland's western edge. They were following along the quickest, non-king's road path possible, after crossing near 300 miles from the Trident to Duskendale for which they had resupplied.

Eddard Stark, Warden of the famed 'savage' Northmen, and the largest fiefdom of Westeros at only 19 years old. Though he was considered young, he had gained their everlasting loyalty through his combat prowess during battles, as well as for his strategic mind through the turbulence of war. Some men even whispered that he was the Stark they were meant to have, after all his elder brother was coined the wild wolf for a reason.

From learning warfare by the Honorable and fearsome Lord Jon Arryn, who was veteran of many wars. His father had taught him to temper his mind, for honor is a strength bit also a weakness.

\--

Breaking the men into riding groups to keep the force staggered but organized, Lord Stark had specifically spoken to each commander he had chosen, giving advice and orders for the coming journey.

Before setting off from the host's of King Rhaegar, and Lord Baratheon he had seen fit to equip every man under his command with as many waterskins as possible, for the Dornish desert, whether in the sandy dunes or red mountains it was forever unforgiving.

Using the intelligence of the Reacher lords that had followed the Targaryen King, and Lord Wyvn Vaith of the Sandy Dornish, the 'Sand Dog' himself, (as the man had been fostered at Kingsgrave as a young man). Soon they had been able to map out a trail to follow that encompassed nearly a 1,000 miles of hard riding. Estimating travel, to include camp, daily rest breaks for mounts, and hopefully being unmolested by enemies it should take just over three weeks to make it to the Tower of Joy.

By this point, the kingdom would be on its way to a stabilizing peace. Well, hopefully.

Rhaegar Targaryen would be crowned and anointed King by the time they made it, and Robert Baratheon would have lifted the siege of his ancestral home weeks prior as well.

\--

Ned:

Keeping a consistent, but practical pace I lead the riding groups down a long neglected country path.

At my side today was Howland and Ser Myles Mooten, who had been the former squire of the new King. Each day I would make it so a set of lords from the North would have my direct ear and full attention. I did this so I could learn these people who now relied upon me as their Warden. Though on other days I would have one of my three commanders at my side with the one Dornish noble or one of the Riverlords to entertain. My wife's family held the title of Lord Paramount of the Riverlands after all. Though the Dornish Lord Vaith had quickly become a welcome friend, he needed no fool in his company. A man after my own heart.

'I swear, Howland is earning himself a position in the Northern court for this' I laughed internally.

He had become my unofficial personal political advisor. Helping lead conversations, and slowly educate me on the men and their personal interests. Hell, after this I should see about gifting him farmland just north of the neck, his people need better land for crops. That had been something he had hinted at since we began the campaign, his people were growing but they needed food to feed them.

'I wonder if I could talk him into coming to court at Winterfell?' I mused, while raising a fist signalling to slow the procession to a crawl for a scout approached.

But knowing Howland he would beg to return to Greywater to be with his wife, and newborn babe.. He would gladly take the land though.

'I'll think of something.' I silently declared to myself.

"Ned, the ford is a mile up!" Howland's voice then informed me, after one of his own Vassals had informed him of this just a moment before riding off again.

I nodded and raised my fist again, returning to our previous pace, Howland and Wyvn silent at my side, lost in their own musing as well no doubt.

I had thought that we might make camp once the company had forded the Blueburn river, though we would carefully be keeping a significant distance away from any of the major holds in the area. Specifically we chose to be west of Grassy Vale, but east of Longtable. Near dead in the middle of the two actually.

Through the last week and a half since we had left the King, I had done my best to be courteous to the southron lords embedded in our forces. We were already halfway to Dorne thank the old gods for that, and I had learnt that the Dornish other than Wyvn were just as hot-headed as my Northern brethren. It was luck to have them so well adjusted to the gruff, rough ways of my people, they weren't as finicky as the rest of the south I had to admit.

The Riverlord's, other than Lord Mooten and his 300 men, were the twin third and fourth sons of House Wayn, Ser Rymer, and Ser Jaeger, who with them brought 200 of the 500 rivermen. They were good men, eager to prove their worth and apparently become direct vassals of house Stark, as their brother was already the Lord of their House with heirs to spare. Every Riverman in their company had requested to join the brothers on their quest to become independent lords. Some were green and young, others fit and married with youngins of their own, hoping to serve honorable men.

I had many keeps stone and wood alike that could be fixed relatively quickly and make fine holds of loyal men. There were two in particular, a set of twin towers at the fork of the Whiteknife. Each protecting a separate branch, one to the Wolfswood that could serve as a prime trading post and way point for exports of timber. The other to the mountains east of Winterfell that comes to the second fork in the river left side lead into Long Lake and the right being fed from the Lonely Hills. Long Lake was rich in fishing, as it could feed many people. The Lonely Hills held wildlife ready to be trapped and turned into warm coats, hats, and bedding.

Long Lake also has two abandoned castles on either of its sides, though a half dozen villages still thrive around it. The river's fork was once a village ruled by a long dead Stark ancestor, a trading post and waypoint as was its southern half. The entire river however led straight to White Harbor, our only Northern City.

If I could get more disgruntled people to migrate north, the North could have a More productive wealthy future. Brandon once told me of his travels across the North, of the Ancient stone forts, and stone built towns that were lightly populated by smallfolk and each in good repair.

I had asked father once, whom those towns and villages paid their taxes to, since there were no local lords to oversee them. Brandon's adventures had peaked my interest of these isolated dwellings.

I remember it well as it had been just days before we left for the tournament at Harrenhal. While sitting in the Godswood under the Weir Tree. Father had pulled me aside for privacy as he had decided that I would be inheriting Moat Cailin after Brandon's wedding.

He laughed at my question and said that we, the Starks were their overseers. That House Stark collected their due whether it be food, supplies, coin, or precious stone from every parcel of land not directly under the northern bannerman. Those bannermen paid their taxes in coin.

Seeing my confusion, my eye's asking 'how' he explained what he meant.

' You have seen the many me with the bronze wolf that Jarl's I appoint wear, and live in the town of Winterfell correct? How they come and go during the harvest, how there are nearly 200 of them but only ever seem to be a few dozen at Winterfell at a time?' He had questioned.

He stopped for a moment and laughed out loud.

'Ah you have been away 9 years, of course you haven't.' He apologized with a smile.

So he gave an explanation, that a 'Jarl' was an outdated term from before the conquest, that roughly meant 'Chief'. That it was now used as an honorary title for someone who had shown great bravery or some feat that impressed the ruling Stark, and were rewarded with Lands and the title. His Jarl's were like taxes collectors in the North, except that they provided the multiple but sparsely filled towns and villages with municipal services, and could act in the Wardens or Lords absents to settle disputes. They were warriors that travelled the North keeping the peace, each Jarl having a company of men with them. They used the holdfast to rest when visiting an area as well, hence their good repair.

Asking how he kept them from being corrupted by greed or being cruel to the people. He sighed and told me while it was possible and that it could be as I said, he always tried to send different sets of Jarls and guards, and demanded written reports for every township. He did this to weed out any ill intentioned men.

He then took Brandon and I to his solar after the mid day meal and slammed a massive leather bound book on his desk with a grin and opened it.

Brandon had looked bored, as he had many sessions like this since coming back from his own fostering that only lasted a few years.

Finding the page he had been looking for, father read it out loud.

It was the pact of the last Northern King and the Conqueror.

Because the North had stood down and not attacked we had been given the most autonomy of all the Kingdoms in our governing of the lands. It said that so long as we provided a set percentage of our yearly revenue to the crown, and answered the call to arms we would be left in peace.

Thought the conqueror thought the Starks too powerful for we controlled what is now the New Gift, our northern breadbasket.

Though King Aegon and his wives took away a large portion of the North and gave it to the Night's Watch, in a move that was both unnecessary and calculated. They knew we wouldn't starve, as the lands south of Wolfswood could be farmed. But the Starks had used that land for exporting Northern Foodstuff, the likes of which the southern kingdoms did not have, food only able to be grown in the cold north. Our coffers had taken a hit, and King Aegon had known that would be the result. It weakened a proud and stubborn honorable house.

The gift was the most fertile and crop producing land In the North. Because of the pact, we had no choice but to relinquish it, and abide by our word of honor. At the time it had been the home of many people and thriving farm towns, but once the Night Watch took over governance it slowly fell to ruin, from so few members of the Watch to actually collect taxes and being left unpatrolled, bandits and wildlings took advantage. So the people there refused to be neglected, after being harrassed they were offered a choice to relocate instead by the former King and had moved to the lands surrounding Winterfell.

But In that pact it stated that land not owned by the Night's Watch or under banners of a vassal, it would be considered the sole property of House Stark. All townships, villages, rivers, streams, forests, mountains belonged to our House.

I finally understood what he had meant.

Even after the New Gift was given away, we still had more paths to gain revenue than any other kingdom, the only problem was that we didn't have the manpower to truly harness those resources from our lands since they required shipping of supplies in large quantities. Thus we could only receive tithes In the form of materials that our Jarls could carry back.

If we had enough people, we could even export to Essos, after all merchant lords ruled that continent.

\--

Reaching the site that the crannogman scout had suggested. We immediately began fording the Blueburn, two columns straight through. Luckily the water was shallow, and calm as the day had been cloudless clear blue skies, with a scorching sun.

With just a couple hours of daylight left, we had completed the crossing, thankfully with no injuries or mishaps.

Sighing in contentment for the moment I glanced over at Wyvn, who had gravitated towards Howland and I. Motioning for him to join us, I asked.

"Should we eik out more leagues or allow the men to have an extended night of rest?" His experience and wisdom were not something I would willingly snub. He took a moment to survey the horsemen reforming lines, those refilling skins and others taking their moment of respite to wash sets of clothes.

"Let's set camp a few miles south of here, I know there is an abandoned Great Keep we could utilize for the evening." He eventually counseled.

Nodding in acceptance I called over several of the lords closest to us, to pass the word along.

Wheeling Grim, my warhorse around, I set him at a trot forward. The three thousand horsemen around me began to do the same, they had learned that I would always be at the front, leading.

After another hour we made it to what must have been the holdfast Lord Vaith had mentioned, it was certainly a Great Keep.

It was of Andal design from long before the conquest. It looked to be in Good condition all things considered, though the walls were gapped, and fallen in places, still the large fortress was intact. It had four tall Square towers, arranged at the four points of the Keep which was maybe 30 feet shorter than the towers themselves. Made entirely of granite, it was a mite ostentatious.

Riding towards the deserted courtyard I made out plenty of space for our entire force to shelter for the night, a relief the men would adore.

Dismounting, with my sore and cramped legs protesting, immediately I straightened, can't allow the men to think me weak. I took care of my steed, unbuckled the saddle from Grim, giving him a solid brush and oats for the evening.

With my lords at my side, we pushed through the old but intact grand doors, into the hall beyond.

It was full of old and half rotted furniture, but other than some dust, it was in excellent condition. High soaring ceilings, with paintings clear as day on every inch of it.

The pillars were chiseled to look like winding snakes, colorful stones decorating as scales.

"Many past Kings had used this fortress for shelter over the years, not including the Garrisons that had periodically used this fortress as a waystation in the past." Lord Vaith explained to us as we set out our bedrooms, and cooking supplies, intent on cool drinks and warm chow.

"Why have us come here if there could have been a garrison?" Howland questioned after some time, stirring a pot of simmering stew.

I had been wondering something similar as well.

"When we had come up from Dorne we had came through this region. Once meeting with some of the Reacher Lords who had been planning to join our host north had spoke of troop movement for this region, straight from Mace Tyrell himself." Lord Vaith revealed as he waited for his meal as well, fiddling with a knife and chunk of wood.

"A worthy knight, or even a second son should be given this Holdfast and its land." I remarked, remembering the miles of fertile soil we had past on our way here. " Its nearly wasted only being used as a waypoint."

"Yes, it would be a worthy gift!" Ser Mooten laughed across from us, a drinking horn in hand. Obviously more content to drink his mead than worry for food like the rest of us.

Thinking of all the land I had seen in the past weeks of travel, the majority of it unused, or barely touched by a plow. It caused me to think of the North and our own issues with farmland. The North is capable of growing our own crops, but of only a certain variety. Potatoes, cabbages, leeks, turnips, beets, and some others. Our livestock were mostly goats, oxen, domesticated pig, or sheep. Few cows could live in the harsh North lands and grow as healthy as we would like them to.

Though recently we had seen some shaggy haired creatures, large as a moose, but as burly as a bear.

When I questioned lord Mooten about them days prior he had explained that they were

called buffalo. Some of the Crownlander lords had herds kd them instead of the typical cow we were used to.

I would have to speak with Lord Blackvyne to see if I could have a small herd brought north.

Estel had been commanding the troops in the rear in turn with Lord Bludhaven or uncle Tyne, as he was adamant I call him in private. I found that even though he was stoic just as I was, he had a very dry sense of humor, one that I found to my liking.

They had been helping keep the men on track, and when not at the rear, they had been commanding our scouts with Howland as well.

Speak of the stranger! Uncle and Estel had just walked into the hall. Their packs in hand, making a beeline towards my small group of companions.

"Lord Stark, the watch has been set, the men know to keep quiet, and the quartermaster is rationing the ale as ordered." Lord Blackvyne informed me as he settled down at Wyvn's side, Uncle Tyne next to him.

"Thank you for taking care of the men." I thanked him gratefully. I knew they could handle the camp without my micromanaging. The first few days I had tried to do it all myself, but found out early on it was damn near impossible. The men who sat around me now, minus the Wayn's who were in charge of first shift watch, had stepped up, and taught me a lesson in leadership.

Delegation was not a weakness or a sin. Treat the men under your command with respect. teach them to be attentive and thorough, and they will follow their orders impeccably.

We stayed around our hearthfire for a time, telling childhood stories and various tall tales. Drinking our ale and welcoming the company of the friends we had made.

But as all things do, it came to an end with me begging off to go to sleep. We would hit the trail hard at dawn, refreshed and ready.

\--

Four days later..

The skies had finally turned on us. As the day had passed, the sun began to darken, clouds dark as charcoal and ash filled our vision.

We were already nearing the borders of Dorne, the land had become less hospitable. Though, no where near what we would experience in the coming days from what Wyvn has said.

We were a day past Ashford upon the Cockleswent river, and hopefully no one had seen us make that crossing, but it had not been as easy as the Blueburn had been.

Our company was closing in on a series of hill with tall stone boulders dotting the landscape.

This would have to do for the evening. I knew it was going to suck. The men knew it as well.

It was just luck we hadn't run into a storm like this in the two weeks we had been riding together.

Shaking my head to rid myself of those thoughts I lead Grim to a trio of boulders near as tall and wide as some small tower.

The three thousand horsemen around me joined with their comrades, pulling out canvas tarps to cover themselves and other types for their steeds. The Dornishmen and women bargained with their companions to double up under cover with either Northmen or Riverman. They did not have torrential rainfall as often as the people from the other kingdoms, so they weren't entirely prepared for the Stormland weather.

As we settled under our tarp, our mounts as protected as we could make them, we ate dried meats and fruits, bread and cheese. Very few would be able to sleep well this evening.

"Howland, pass me one of the wineskins?" Myles asked, seated on his portion of the canvas the four of us were sharing, wrapped in our wool cloaks as the rains began pounding harder atop us. We each took a corner, used rocks to weigh down the sides, and sat on a portion to keep dry and as low to the ground as possible.

Storms in this region were fierce, and not something we would wish to set up tents in. We were extremely lucky to have found the outcropping of boulders and hills to protect us from the worst of the winds.

"Here we go!" The sound of Wyvn's voice was filled with glee?

"Vaith, you know this is going to suck right"? I couldn't help but ask the man.

"That may be Ned, however this will be my first proper thunderstorm!" He shouted back.

Ohh Sandy Dornish, right.

"It doesn't rain in your lands?" Mooten yelled from across me.

"It does, but nothing like this so far! Most I've ever seen is a steady pour when I was younger during the autumn years." He explained.

Lightning flashed dulled through the canvas, followed by a near ground shaking roar of thunder.

'Yeah real fun this is!' I huff to myself.

Lyanna used to drag us out into the training yard during rain storms as children, so we could run and play in puddles. It would drive the maids mad, mother and father would just laugh and lightly scold us. Brandon, Lyanna, and I. Smiling at the fond memories I laid down and tried to get as comfortable as possible. The storm had only just begun to pick up..

It was going to be a long night.

'BOOM!'

\-- --

Six days laterâ

We were only a day from the Tower of Joy, from Lyanna.

I gathered the hundred of men who would join me this last portion of the journey, 60 Northmen, 20 Rivermen and 20 Dornish to guide us.

I left Estel in command, as uncle was adamant in joining me. Many of the Noblemen decided to join us, creating a pseudo 'WolfsGuard' as they liked to joke. William Dustin, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull, Mark Ryswell, and Lorn Umber made up my personal guard, and were each close childhood friends of my brother.

Their were many women of Bear Island that would help with the birth if needed, the two Maesters were both on mounts with bulging satchels, filled with the gods know what.

Even several of the Dornish women under Lord Vaith joined our group.

"We are ready! Supplies are stocked and water is replenished!" I said calling out to Wyvn, who would lead us through the mountains.

Giving me a stern nod, he lead us away from the camp. Taking the main road for several hours, we galloped smoothly across the cobbled stone road.

We rode late into the evening, only stopping once the moon had risen far into the sky.

We rested only until dawn, then we were back fully in the saddle, once again at our forced pace. Mountains, small and large the color of rust, and others of dried blood flew by us.

My mind was only on finding my sister, making sure she was safe, and alive.

God's, I am about to be an uncle, if not already one! A little cousin for my First born to grow up with hopefully! They would be the Wolf a d Dragon of the North!.

The day turned into noon, the sun blazing above us making me thankful for the extra waterskins we all carried.

"Lord Stark! We are nearing the Tower!"

I hastened Grim forward, Uncle and Howland joined me alongside Wyvn as we quickly drove around another stony bend until finally we could make out the huge sandstone tower drawing closer.

I couldn't contain my anxiety as we drew closer and closer, until finally we reached a small hill overlooking the Tower, where three men in white stood waiting at its entrance.

"I am going down with Lord Vaith to treat with the KingsGuard!" Myles said urgently, his hand reaching into his jerkin for the scroll given to him by Rhaegar as proof of our authenticity.

Nodding silently, I gritted my teeth in frustration. I need to see my sister. I need her to be okay! Taking a breath I calmed my nerves the best I could as I watched my friends gallop dow towards three of the most deadly men alive.

Myles stopped short and announced himself, and then handed the missive off to Ser Gerold Hightower, the Lord Commander. His movements were cautious, measured, and his hands held slightly up, so as to show he was no threat. We could see him read it thoroughly, studying ever word, searching for deception.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Wyvn flagged for us to join them.

My shoulders sagged in relief, I had no wish to face any of those men with a blade in hand. Giving the order my company followed me swiftly towards my sisters keep.

\--


	6. Joy

Chapter 6:

Rushing through the stone portal, I ran up the steps two at a time, the words of Ser Gerold Hightower at the forefront of my mind.

Several minutes prior:

"She has delivered the babe just this morning, Lord Stark. Unfortunately it was a difficult birth, though strong willed, she is very weak right now." His deep baritone explained to me, his face impressive as the stone he stood upon.

"Take the steps to the top, her room is there, bring the Maesters with you, they will prove more helpful than the nurse maid." He finished.

I took off. Howland gathering the Maesters and right behind me.

Present:

Reaching the heavy wooden door, I stopped and took a moment to breathe before straightening my shoulders and pushing past the door.

The room held the heavy scent of blood, it permeated through the air.

The hot Dornish wind blew through the open window, stirring the dust in the afternoon light.

There upon a large Royal bed she lay. Lyanna.

Asleep with a single sheet covering her from Breast down, her near black Stark hair stuck to her forehead, her oh so pale skin almost matching the sheets of her bed.

I could see her chest rise and fall slowly, almost laboriously in motion.

Searching the room with my eyes, I found a single Dornish woman in a rocking chair, smock covered in birthing fluids, her own ink black hair plastered to her face, as she rocked back and forth.

Next to the woman was a cradle, swaying gently by the wind through the window. Soft snores rang through the room from, from whom I couldn't tell.

I was brought out of my daze by Howland and the two chained men in tunics and leggings, a sight you didn't see very often.

Maesters were notorious for only wearing their Citadel approved Robes of their order. However needs must, and riding 3 weeks required the unwieldy robes to be removed and practical travel clothes donned.

They rushed in behind me, past me and then to The bed that my little sister slept upon. I could feel Howlands eyes on me as he kneeled at her side asking me, 'Do you mind?'

Remembering what we were there for, I just nodded shortly in understanding.

"Lya, Lya, I am sorry but we must insist on waking you my friend. "

His tone soft, cognizant of sleeping babe a few feet from him.

Stirring ever so slowly, Lyanna opened her eyes and stared directly at me.

Those stormy grey orbs lost in the haze of sleep, her eyebrows scrunched, while reaching a too thin arm up to rub the sleep from them.

"I must be dreaming again, Ned's here! Oh and Howland too, yes I must be dreaming." Her voice was scratchy and clearly raw, probably from the hard labor the white Bull mentioned.

"No. No dream Lya, it's really us, we've come to collect you, to take you and the baby home." I Finally spoke, my tone soft, trying to keep my emotions under control.

"Home?" Her quiet voice asked.

"Yes sweet sister, to your husband, to the King." I told her, knowing she wouldn't be going back North, still bothered me.

"Rhaegar?" Her voice hitched, life began to fill her eyes, her voice stronger.

"Yes, we treated with him, before battle sister, and made peace so long as he sits the throne. " I told her as a sat on her right side, as the Maesters interrupted to begin checking her physical health.

The older man didn't seem very old, he still had all the brown still fully in his hair, though the crows feet at his eyes told a different story of his actual age.

The younger was probably a few years older than me, mid 20s most likely.

Both seemed to be very competent, firing off questions about pain, and bleed, how many hours the birth went.

They examined her from head to toe, when they checked her lower half, a sharp intake was heard. My neck nearly snapped off whirling around, on high alert.

"Liam quickly fetch the blue package, the three green vials with yellow strips, and rags. Now!" The older Maester snapped out.

"What's.." I began, but Howland grabbed my arm and lead me to the other side of the room, clearly getting me out of the way of the specialists.

"Lets meet your new nephew ay?" He whispered to me, as my eyes were still glued to Lyanna. The Maesters began having her drink the vials, and then they asked for the maid to join them to help with something.

"Ned, stop staring. " Lyanna's voice snapped at me, annoyance and tiredness all in one.

"His Name is Aemon, let these healers do their job please." She told me, her tone lacking tbe annoyance now.

Nodding I turned the rocker around to face the wall and the crib.

Looking down at the sleeping babe, I could tell right away he would have the Stark hair, little tuffs of jet black curls piled the top of his tiny head.

"Aemon Targaryen, hello my dear nephew." A voice from behind me spoke.

Turning my head slightly I looked up at the smiling face of my own uncle Tyne Bludhaven.

"A prince in the family, a fine man he will become one day, he will be our pride." Tyne chuckled softly, his hand resting on my shoulder as I gazed down at his tiny form.

My thoughts drifted off to my own child that would be born in a couple months time, of my new wife that I barely knew. A wife that was never supposed to be mine, just like the Wardenship.

' Would my first child look like me? ' I mused to myself.

Father was always very adamant that our blood would always be stronger should we marry at the Heart tree, that a Starks coloring was a reflection of our ancient ties to long forgotten magic. He always said,

'To be a true Stark you must marry under the leaves of a Heart tree, to establish the bloodline, to say the oaths of our ancestors, because that is our way.'

Whe. Jon and I were forced into marriage by Lord Tully, he had intended for us to do so in the Sept of the seven. Jon of course was compliant, and readily agreed to this as it was his religion.

I was almost swayed into doing so but Jon and Robert, as they said it was to be proper southron way.

but at the last minute before the joint weddings I stood up to the three of them, and made it clear that as a Northman, the 'Proper way' for a Stark was at a Heart Tree, and the seven be damned for all I cared.

Obviously they were less than pleased, Tully more so than Jon, while Robert laughed in his booming baritone laugh. He slapped my shoulder and backed me, as did every single Northern Lord including the Manderly's that attended.

So in the end, we performed Jon's wedding to Lysa Tully first. In the light of the seven, with the vow's, singing, ribbons and cup. A fussy affair I was glad not to be apart of, though the look on my soon to be wife's face spoke another story.

Then the whole procession shifted towards the Smaller than acceptable Godswood, that had.one of the only Heart Trees outside of the Isle of the Gods that I knew of in the Riverlands.

Lord Blackvyne performed our rites for us, the cloak made for Caitlyn showed the emblem of my House, and the oath given by the Stark men was recited,

'From ice to fire, and stone to glass may the blood of the Stark foreverlast.'

So simple a saying, more a chant really but it was spoken over the Heart Tree regardless, with the man taking a knife and spilling a few drops of blood upon the roots it was completed.

I did as I was meant to do, as my father had and how Brandon would have undoubtedly have done as well.

I remember the reverence my bannermen spoke of my commitment to our old gods that night. It had began then I believe, of when my Father's bannermen became my own.

Not long after I had sat down, did the babe wake, oddly enough he didn't squall as most babe's do. He just looked up at me with curious little eye's, so dark grey, but indigo underlying it making them seem black if out of the light.

I lifted the little one up as he began to squirm and rocked him softly upon my chest, his infant chest rising and falling to the same pace as my own, I knew at that moment I would love this child like my own.

I spoke Howland and Tyne as the Maesters cared for my sister, the looks on the Maesters faces much more relaxed than the hours prior, their voices calmer and actions less urgent as they finally stood straight and alerted me wanting to have a word.

Silently I removed myself from the chair and ambered towards Lyanna who was motioning for me to hand the child over to be fed.

Lyanna's face lit up at seeing her baby boy as I gently laid him into her waiting arms. I gave her a chaste kiss on the brow as I followed the elder Maester from the room, passing Ser Arthur who had taken up watch at the door.

Closing it behind us, he turned to me as spoke.

"If we hadn't gotten here today she would have died within two days, if we had gotten here even a day later she would have died, period."

His tone grim, his brown eyes conveying the severity of the situation.

"Thank the gods. "

" Yes, well she won't be fit to travel for several days, so I would suggest having the army to move in until then, but you are the Lord and I the servant." His tone snarled, telling me what he thought of typical Lords.

'Good to know there's an honest Measter out there.' I couldn't help but chuckle.

" No, that's an excellent plan.." I said, waiting for the name that I couldn't quite remember, if I knew at all.

"Lynol Berne, my Lord. "

"Just Ned, or Eddard, you saved my sister after all." I replied back to him. No one that saves someone I love will ever be forced to refer to me as their Lord, proprietary be damned.

"Lynol if you please, Ned." He smiled slightly, the tiredness on his face showing.

"My apprentice will keep watch over her for the rest of the day, and I will take some time to rest and will personally stay with her this evening." He told me matter of factly.

Turning to Ser Arthur I asked where the good Maester could find a cot to rest.

He gave me directions to his own room for the man to use, amd he would wake him when he left his shift.

Thanking the Morning star the man left us for cot, and a few peaceful hours of rest.

"Lord Stark. " Arthur's voice called to me before I headed down the stairs to organize a messenger to the main camp.

"Yes?" I said stopping and facing the most feared sword in the known world.

"Thank you. I would never be able to face Rhaegar if anything had happened to Lady Lyanna. I would have taken a sword rather than let a single hair on either of their heads be hurt. I swear that to you." His voice was quiet, urgent even. I looked at the man in his eyes, to see if he was indeed being honest. I could see no lie, no trick, he was honest.

"I am glad we made it in time, regardless of everything else, I know that King Rhaegar loved Lyanna, I could see that clearly once we had finally spoken." I replied back, feeling that honesty was important to this man, as much as it was to myself.

"I will take care of travel arrangements with the Lord Commander. Thank you for protecting my family, Ser Arthur." I said as I began the descent towards the entrance of the tower and mountainous desert of Dorne.

King's Landing:

It had been 6 weeks since the 'Trident Accords' as it was now being called by the gossip-mongering courtiers of King's Landing.

As expected entering the city with the Lion of Casterly Rock, Falcon of the Vale, and various other prominent Lords had cemented his place as a King in the minds of his people from the most common man to the high nobility.

Looking out over the balcony that extended over the ocean that was attached to my quarters I couldn't help but brood. I was lucky to have lived through this war. My children were blessedly safe and their mothers both alive and well.

I had been foolish, I could see that now more than ever. Lost in dreams and grandeur, I didn't think of the consequences of my actions.

Staring out at the sea in the early dawn light my eyes followed a gull dive and loop aimlessly over the sparkling sapphire waves.

Resting my hands on the rail, I began to think of my good-brother and what would happen when he passes judgement in the coming weeks. The raven I had received a few days prior gave me a rough time of their arrival here in the Capitol. Lyanna was weak from childbirth and my son was hail and healthy.

Eddard Stark was no fool. After so many weeks with his countrymen surrounding me I knew for a fact that the man was an ally I couldn't do to slight. Robert may have been dubbed the leader of the war, but Stark was the strategic mind behind it.

Honorable, cautious, but ruthless to his enemies, he was revered by his northern people.

No, Ned Stark will pass his judgement and I will accept it without complaint. My father would die most likely and I couldn't help but feel relieved that I would not have to do it myself.

Even now in his madness, I still remembered the man he had been, of the charismatic King and father I hac once looked up to. He was a shadow of that man now. The gods only know what would have happened if I had died and Elia and the children had been left in his unstable hands.

It had been a busy time since arriving In the Capitol, difficult really. Elia stayed with the children at all times, not attending dinner In the great hall or even court. She wished to return to Dorne, but knew the children wouldn't be able to join her if she pressed the issue.

It broke me heart. Elia deserved happiness, and even though we had agreed to the annulment it was a complex situation we had to navigate. Our relationship was whispered by the gossiping servants and nobles alike. How the King and the Princess still smiled and spoke softly to each other, but the King refused to share his bed with her the times she had tried.

That had been the one rumor that held a sliver of truth so far unfortunately.

Elia had tried to enter my quarters but had been turned away by her own uncle Ser Lewyn without my knowledge. I knew why he did it, but I would never had done it. I was livid when she told me the next day as we broke our fast in private.

Ser Lewyn and I had a very uncomfortable conversation after that.

Elia and I loved each other, but not as lovers. Our friendship was strong, and she was hurt to know I wouldn't see her while she had so terrified by the days events.

Sighing at the situation, and the morning sun beginning to rise higher I turned back towards my quarters to dress and see my children before my day began in earnest.

I had spent the morning with Elia and the children, though Rhaenys was still being cold towards me, out of fear or dislike I couldn't tell.

1.5 month prior:

Entering the Red Keep had been incredibly simple, as soon as he trotted in sight, the drawbridge had been dropped, and iron gates opened. A half dozen of the advanced party had been there to greet him, on bent knees with Ser Darry giving an impromptu briefing as I hastened my way to Maegor's holdfast.

Passing scatterings of tied up servants or guards who refused the change of the status Quo.

Making it to the pathway that lead to the large wooden doors of the tower fortress I couldn't help but stare in disgust of the two dark clad corpse that were piled to one side of the hall, though the bodies of those they had helped send the the afterlife were laid with more care several yards down from them.

"Do we know who they are?" I asked Ser Darry in a forced calm.

" No Sire, but we will." Was his answer, I could almost physically feel his fury, without turning to face him I nodded in my acceptance. Standing at the entrance of the holdfast were two more of our advanced party, covered in blood while carrying spears of leaf shaped steel. Both wore the red and black Three Headed Dragon upon their chest armor as they were Men at arms from Dragonstone that were sworn to me.

Glancing at the worn warriors I spoke,

"Thank you men, you have served the realm well today. You will be rewarded. " I announce briefly before pushing open the doors. My worry must have been clear as the men nodded and didn't attempt to hold me in useless chatter.

I had been away from my children for too long, would little Aegon remember his father? Would my dragonlily remember her papa? The anxiety was eating at my heart and mind. After all this senseless conflict how am I supposed to look my children in the eyes and tell them it was for the greater good? Causing shame to hang over their mother, the stigma of being the offspring of the foolish prince?

Coming upon them finally sitting in a lounge I saw Rhaenys sitting against her mother, her tiny arms around her waist, and little Aegon in his mother's lap sound asleep.

"Rhaegar!" The sudden shout took me out of my trance as I rushed forward to Elia and the children, but arms wrapping around them all as tears began to fall.

"Thank the godsâ" She whispered into my chest with our children pressed between us.

I didn't see Jaime Lannister standing next to the door I had entered, nor his furious green eyes that burned into me.


	7. Ado

Chapter 7:

The morning sun shone through the high circular dome of the Sept of Baelor, the Golden statues of the seven exquisite in their places atop their pedestals. Thousands filled the pews of the cathedral, surrounding the body that lay still upon the granite alter placed directly in the middle of the circular room.

The royal family and their favored guests sat high up in their secluded viewing box. The King in his Royal black and red doublet of his House, his Northern Wife the Queen Lyanna Stark, with a matching dress of deep midnight black, with highlights of blood red throughout.

The princess of Dorne, Elia, sat to the Queen's left, the young Rhaenys next to her with Prince's Aegon and Aemon upon their mothers laps.

Usually the death of any of the Royal family would ignite the grief of all who lived in the city of Kings. However, King Aerys was not one of those Royals. Not a single man, woman, or child could be seen grieving for the mad man, not his widow or children.

The dowager Queen stood over her deceased husband and brother, her beautiful face etched from stone.

"Aerys is dead. He is dead and the Kingdoms of Westeros are better for it. I ask that for those who once knew him as he was before the madness, to remember that man, the one who was a kind and gentle Prince for that was what he once was. His madness nearly destroyed our country..." Her voice grew hard as she continued, eyes sweeping the tiered room.

" I will not however ask you to grieve for him, I will not for I am just as grateful as all of you that he has finally descended into the Seven Hells." Her melodic voice filling the domed cathedral, the emptiness filled with her testimony, and none dared to make a noise as she placed a single white rose upon the dead Kings chest and swiftly turned to glide up to her family.

Eddard Stark stared hard at the decomposing body of his father and brother's murderer. Justice had been removed from his hand before he could dispense it.

A week prior:

Upon his arrival to King's Landing and the delivery of his sister and Nephew into the waiting arms of the King, and his former wife the Princess Elia, he had played the part of the Noble Warden of the North. He forced himself to play politics as his blood boiled for revenge. The King, I knew, was sure of how I felt, from the looks he gave me through out that day and into the evening feast.

Before the end of the welcoming feast I was forced to endure the constant lick spittle of the southron nobles, even some of my wife's family's vassals spent time attempting to lick my boots to gain favor. I steadily ignored them all with my patented look of silent apathy.

My Northern Lords knew me better, other than the typical inquires of my health and that of good wishes they left me alone to my own devices. My Vassals knew when not to poke an irritated Direwolf that's for damn sure.

It was nearing the end of the feast when Jon caught my attention as he walked by, bidding the lords and ladies of the realm ado. His eyes caught mine in a subtle 'follow me' as he passed.

Standing a bit too quickly I had begged my own goodbyes, the King and several of his own advisors immediately doing the same. Lyanna had made it known she was still weakened from the journey, and with the Princess of Dorne they left for the evening, quietly speaking between themselves.

Not giving the two ladies another thought I followed after Jon, the King just in front of him.

He walked quickly as was his habit, but not no longer being a child I matched his steps as we move our way through the halls towards what looked like a singular tower surrounded by a dozen guards with a white cloaked individual at the main door spear at the ready.

"Open." Jon's voice called simply.

Not bothering to wonder who was there being guarded so heavily I followed silently.

The men didn't hesitate as we swept through the now opened portal to enter a bare stone hall, obvious of the former trappings and luxurious decorations that seemed to gave been removed.

" This way Eddard." Jon's voice seemed to age ten years in those few words.

Nodding I did as I was bade.

Minutes passed as we climbed numerous steps winding up towards the peak of the tower. All the windows were barred so closely that not but an arm could pass through.

I noted the various guards posted on the landings of each level, wooden batons instead of swords at their waists.

Finally reaching a heavy barred wooden door Jon paused to give another white cloaked Knight a nod as he turned toward me.

"Before you dispense justice you may deem necessary, I believe it would do you good to meet the man and allow you to speak as you please instead of thousands of onlookers." He stopped to take a calming breath.

"Do not harm him while here Ned, I know its silly of me to say as you are more honorable than that, but I must for the King's sake. " he finished and gestured for the knight to unlatch the door.

'Stay Calm Ned' I think to myself as I pass the young blond haired knight with a handsome grim set face.

Entering the tower room I notice how bare it was, similar to the rest of the building, only singular lanterns spaced high upon the walls gave light to the otherwise darkened room.

A desk and chair sat to one side, a single inkwell and quill sat upon it, no paper in sight.

Then the only other furniture was the chamber pothole and bed with a wizened man clothed in white sitting upon it.

"Who dares enter my chamber unannounced!" His raspy voice hissed, face hidden behind long dirty nail curled hands.

"Eddard Stark." I tell him, stepping towards the desk and bringing the chair out of reach of the maded elder man.

" Ah! The boy finally brought you! Now he must bring the Baratheon brat and I will forgive him of his folly!" Aerys cackled out loud, his face rising in glee.

"No, the King is only doing as he promised." I correct him quietly.

His silver hair was in disarray, causing his confusion to look even more insane.

" What is the meaning of this? What would that ingate promise a traitor?!" He screeched out, standing from his seated spot upon the bed. Well attempted to stand.

As he rose he was jerked back down, the chains attached to his legs and arms not allowing him to leave his place upon the bed.

He seemed almost startled, as if he didn't know he was chained to a bed.

The confusion faded slowly though, his gaunt face becoming almost...sane.

"You. .. Yes..Rhaegar mentioned you.." He muttered, gently moving himself within the limits of his restrictions.

" You are the one to decide my fate. A Stark as the judge, and executioner for the King who had his father burned alive.." The gleeful madness gone from his voice, replaced by a matter of fact tone, on a bored looking face as if he were talking about crops or the weather.

" You had my father burned alive when he requested a trial by combat." I stated before taking a breath. I could feel my anger rising .

"My brother died attempting to cut his free, suffocating with a rope around his neck."

The pure rage I had been harboring coming to the surface as I shouted at him, my place in the chair long forgotten.

"WHY!?"

"A Dragon is above answering to the whims of his servants." He scoffed back at me, one shackled hand lazily waving away my question.

"You will die by my own by my own hand, Aerys Targaryen." I tell him quietly, staring him in the eye as I then turned to bang on the door to leave.

"Bah! Stark you may take my head, but remember Rhaegar is my son!" He retorted, the madness back in place.

I stalked out of the circular room, attempting to reign in my rage. Oh that fucking madman was going to die. I swept by Jon, not bothering to look his way. Jon and the Kingsguard who stood at the door both didn't utter a word as I stormed by.

It was not to be.

By morning Aerys had opened his own throat with those filthy broken nails. All the effort of keeping him away from a weapon didn't help when he had his own hand at his disposal.

Present:

The rites had been said, the King had stood to say a few words of the man he was, though even I could tell he seemed uncomfortable in doing so. Every member of the Royal family stood to leave, the King motioning at the body to then be taken to the dragon pit. This was where only the Targaryen's children came and watched as it was set atop a pyre to be sent off to the underworld per their tradition of burning the body, very much the same as the Northern way.

"Ned." I heard called out to me as I sat in an out of the way alcove, tucked into a corner of a long winding hall of the Red Keep.

"Lya."

She came up from the Western side, A smile on her face, little Aemon on her hip and ser Oswell at her back with the few handmaidens she allowed in her company, all Northern women.

"Ned come walk with me through the gardens!" It was phrased as a question though her tone told me it was not optional.

Sighing to myself I did as my beloved sister bade.

We talked of whimsical details of our trip, of the lords that had ridden to her at my back. As we walked the Kingsguard followed as a shadow, and the ladies began to hang farther back to allow us privacy.

"When will you go North?" Lyanna asked suddenly once we had entered the dowager Queens Garden.

"Soon I think." I tell her

" Uncle Tyne and Lord Blackvyne are leading the host back north in the morn. They both have been away from their own lands for a long while and uncle Tyne received word cousin Aron has returned from his voyage."

I continued to explain to her once I saw the look on her face.

"Aron! He left, what? 6 years ago?" She exclaimed, her happiness at hearing of favorite cousin clear upon her face.

"Oh! I wish I could see him Ned!" Her voice grew quiet then, as she suddenly latched onto my arm leaning into me as we slowly paced through the summer rose bushes and dragon Lilly's.

I could see the conflict on her beautiful face, her raven locks hiding her grey eyes from view, her cold hands tightened around my arm as she caught me staring.

"Have you heard from Ben?" She asked quietly

Looking up at me.

" I received a raven this morning, Winterfell has a new Maester, a well respected man who grew up in White Harbor. Ben sends his love." I tell her neutrally.

"Maester Luwen I believe his name was, father's Maester passed some months ago or so the letter said. He brought with him two younger trainee's to help with some of the projects I ordered Ben to begin."

"Projects?" She gave me a questioning look, head tilted to the side.

"I had a few ideas that could benefit the North, I was going to speak to King Rhaegar this evening about them. I was hoping you would join us as well." I say

" It would be my pleasure Ned." She tells me warmly, her smile lighting up her face.

Little Aemon took that moment to let us know he was hungry.

" Ah my little one, come let us get you fed my little wolf!" Lyanna laughed at the squirming babe in her arms.

Chuckling to myself I escort my sister and nephew back towards the castle, her ladies in waiting swarming in as the Kingsguard gave ne a nod.

" I'll see you at dinner Lya." I say as I give her a kiss on the brow.

"Alright Ned." She relies with a smile.

I meander aimlessly for a while, through halls and archways until I come out of the castle at the training yard where groups of men were practicing their skills.

Taking a breath I see the GreatJon swinging his ugly greatsword against a straw dummy.

Jon noticed me standing there watching and called out, " Ned! How about a spar eh?"

I look at the man, and shrugged in acceptance.

"Why not?" I mutter under my breath.

I walked over to the weapons stand and took a moment to find a suitable tourney sword.

Shifting through the racks I find a pair of greatswords for us to use.

" Here " I toss him one of the two and spent a few minutes to warm up with the dulled steel in hand.

A few upper swings, and some lunges to familiarize myself with the weapon. Well balanced in my hand indeed

Settling in an upper guard I look over to the GreatJon, who shouted,

"Be on your guard Stark!" His bellowing laugh filling the immediate area.

Shaking my head I took a step forward and began to circle the giant man.

It was then the man's demeanor changed, gone was the boisterous Umber, and in its place was a man who knew combat, his serious expression making it known he was taking me seriously.

'Good.' I think, taking a breath and taking quick steps towards him. My blade swung in an arch from the left meeting the dulled steel of Jon Umber in a clang. Pulling back I press him with quick short swings, up, left, Down right, three strikes from the same angles until Jon took the initiative and began his attack.

Like a wildling be swung from all directions, using his superior strength to overwhelm me.

Unfortunately for him, I had spent nearly ten years sparring against Robert Baratheon and his warhammer.

Weathering his strike I moved to his left and lunged forward followed by a flurry of steel as we began a deadly dance of steel.

Sparks flew as we spent half an hour trading blow after blow, our breathing became laboured as we spar, groups of men stopped to watch as the Warden of the North and the berserker of Last Hearth stood toe to toe.

Jon disengaged for a moment, I could see he was rushing to find a way to defeat me soon, the sweat covered him from brow down.

I saw my opportunity come as I pressed the attack, sending a high blow towards his head, forcing him to back track as he overextended his reach to keep up.

At that moment I rushed forward in a series of jabs I broke through his guard and knocked his blade away and sent a heavy boot to his chest.

He went down hard on his back, my blade to his throat.

"Yield!" I rasp out in between gasps of breath.

"Aye I yield!" He yelled back, exhaustion clear on his face.

Dropping my blade towards the ground I lent forward to help the large man up.

"A hell of a warm up eh Ned?" Jon laughed as he took a canteen from boy waiting for us at the weapons rack.

"It was, wasn't it?" I said just as out of breath as I poured water atop my head before guzzling down several mouth fulls.

Giving the man a pat on the back I replaced the sword on the rack and turned to see the group of onlookers had grown to include the King and his ever present guards Ser Arthur and Lord Commander Hightower.

"Excellent swordplay Lord Stark, maybe I could get in a spar at dawn?" Arthur Dayne called out as I approached the King.

"I don't know my Lord, you are not an easy opponent I am sure." I reply stoic like.

"After dinner my King would it be convenient to meet?" I ask Rhaegar as he stared at me in I believe approval.

" Of course my Lord, one of the Kingsguard will guide you to my solar afterwards."

He tells me in his melancholic voice.

I bow in deferment to the King as he paces toward the rack I had abandoned to retrieve a long sword, as Ser Arthur did the same.

Nodding to myself I turned to return to my quarters to have a bath prepared.

A few hours later a serving girl came to my room to alert that supper was to be served in the Royal dining area with the Royal family that evening.

Thanking the girl I set down the book I had been reading, a 'history of agriculture in the seven realms and beyond'. Not a riveting read in any stretch, but incredibly informative all the same.

Picking up my dagger I placed it at my belt and left the chamber to follow the young girl to the dining area. Becoming familiar with the Castle over the recent weeks I had a good guess at how I would find my way back later.

Entering the Kings apartment suite she showed me in and a guard announced my presence.

"Warden of the North Lord Eddard Stark!"

Sighing at the unnecessary and formal announcement I entered quietly and took my place next to my sister, little Aemon was absent though.

The King sat at the head of the table, my sister to his left and Jon Arryn and his wife to his right. Princess Elia and Rhaenys next to them.

Queen Rhaella and Visarys entered and took their seats to my left. The Queen Dowager graced me with a small smile as she sat.

"Mother, how are you?" The King asked as the servants began bringing out dishes.

" I am well my son, young Daenrys just went down to sleep with Aemon and Aegon before I left." She told him with a widened smile, her beautiful Valaryian features lighting up at the thought of the children.

Rhaegar shared a smile with the women present.

The dinner continued at that pace for a bit, simply topics were breached but nothing of real importance.

Jon looked over at me from across the spread of food and inquire,

"Ned, when will you go North son?"

His voice cutting through the chatter of his wife.

I could see his eyes begging me for saving.

"In a weeks time Jon."

That got Lyanna's attention quickly.

"You did say it would be soon didn't you?" She said.

"I've been away for too long, Ben has been doing well but he is still a boy and I shouldn't make him wait." Was my answer to Jon's questioning look.

"Then we must spend some time together before you go!" He told me with a small smile.

Reaching for his glass of wine in front of him he stood and looked me in the eye.

"It was a pleasure to raise you as my foster son Eddard. May the gods bless you and your family in the future!" He said as a toast.

Not sure what to say I raised my goblet of mead in response.

"If you need anything in particular Lord Stark, don't hesitate to ask." The King spoke, his voice soft but audible above the rustle of the table finishing their own drinks.

"Thank you, your Grace."

The dinner fell into a lull afterwards, though the King's eyes were on me as he finally bid his family good night. Seeing my chance I stood and did the same, Ser Lewyn motioning me to follow him.

We only walked but a few minutes before reaching a set of large oak doors, Ser Arthur standing outside. Gracing me with a nod he swung open the door and alerted the King.

Entering the solar I saw it was richly decorated in deep burgundy and blacks. Finely made furniture filled the room, a massive desk stood back against the wall, with several comfortable looking high backed chairs in front of it. Myrish carpets laid upon the floors, and the King standing by a window overlooking the city.

"In all of my dreams I never believed I would have been able to see my mother smile like she did tonight." The King began as he turned to face me, a packet of parchment in hand.

"Through the years of abuse my father put her through, and the hell she has lived it amazes me she still has the lightness I remember as a child." He said walking behind his desk, motioning me to take a seat.

" The Queen is a strong woman sire." I say in respect of the Queen mother.

"That she is, but we are here to speak of other things are we not?" He muses to me, picking up a decanter of wine and pouring two cups and offering one to me.

Not to be rude, I took the glass with one hand and settled down in the armchair with a muted thank you.

"No sire, I had a few requests of you actually."

He seemed intrigued.

He bade me to continue by waving a hand, so I did.

"The North doesn't have the best land for farming at the moment, though we make do our land for most houses are not suited for it." I begin after a moment to sip the sweet wine.

"300 years ago your family sought to give the New Gift to the Night's Watch even though they already held a massive stretch of the North.

But in that time nearly all inhabitants had left due to the watches neglect for the land so far from the Wall." I tell him.

"I am proposing you revise this gift so that house Stark may make use of the farmland that is arguably the best in the North. Now obviously the Watch will not like this, taking it as a King interfering with their business however I have a solution to the benefit of all involved." I finish with another sip of wine to calm my nerves.

"It was my ancestors intent to show favor and support by this Lord Stark, and I am inclined to continue to support the Watch." The King tells me from his chair, though I could see I have peaked his interest.

"That may be sire, however that land has not been used in 300 years. I do propose that with this land being farmed a portion will go to supporting the Wall, to feed and clothe the men stationed their and fund the repairs from export of goods. This land is wasted on men who do not farm but fight as it is.

No, I ask that house Stark be given the control of the New Gift so that my people may be fed and the lands patrolled and cared for as it should be. I am having surveys completed at this moment to see what resources are available on all of my lands in the North that owe me allegiance. My brother Benjen would take up lordship of the region to help resettle more of the lands and begin lumber collection as well." I explain respectfully

"How would this benefit the crown my lord?"

"We would make port in King's Landing for export to southern Kingdoms, and a levy could be set for the entry of goods and the shipping as well. That way the Crown would have another income as Northern lumber is always in demand."

Taking a moment to ponder my offer the King nodded slowly.

"5% of total sales would go to the crown, with a pittance of a levy on the export but not the shipping to King's Landing so that your people are not overtaxed." He looked at me for my response.

"For the other resources, House Stark would keep all revenue and only pay the set taxes as per the Northern charter" Rhaegar stated after a thought.

"That is more than reasonable my King." I tell him.

"I would ask that the lumber sold to Dorne be at a slightly lower price than the other Kingdoms, and that is the only concession I will ask on that Lord Stark."

I took a moment to think it over.

'Dorne is a desert, and they would most likely buy more than the other Kingdoms as it was.'

"I agree, your Grace."

"So be it, I will have the Grand Maester pen the charter by the day after so that it may be signed." He tells me as a knock is heard on the door.

"Open." Rhaegar calls out.

"Sorry for my tardiness my love, Ned." Lyanna's voice fills the room.

I watch as the sad King's eyes light up at my sister's presence.

"My dear, I didn't realize you were joining us!" His melodic voice greets her as we stand as she gave us both a kiss.

"That is my fault sire, I forgot to mention I asked her to do so." I say abashed at my thoughtlessness.

"Never to worry I am here now, so tell me what has been discussed?" She commands taking a seat at my side.

We explain our commerce deal.

"It's brilliant Ned!"

"I wanted to bring one more topic up as well Sire." I say, turning my attention to him

" Rhaegar in private please." He says with a nod to continue.

"Right. Well I was going to ask if I could proposition some of the small folk in King's Landing to travel North to settle those lands. I was going to see about making contact with the Wildlings as well, to see if a trade agreement for furs could be made with them to stop the raiding of our lands." I reveal to them.

"Flea bottom is overfull and in disrepair. If any small folk wish to go they have my blessing and ships will be provided to transport them as well." He tells me without a moment of thought.

"It would do well for our country for the Wildlings to halt their raiding brother." Lya says, her own glass of wine in hand.

"If it is possible, please do. I fear that if we did not do something to help those people we may have a war at our hands from what my great uncle has said in his letters from the Watch." Rhaegar tells us, though Lyanna didn't seem surprised by that piece of knowledge.

"What so you mean?" I question.

"It has been noted that a brother of the Night Watch has deserted a few years ago and has been bringing the clans together for a few months at least. It was only recently brought to his attention you see."

"I will look into when I return North' Rhaegar."

I tell him.

"Thank you good brother, I have a feeling the North is about to enter a time of change and for the better." The King tells me, raising his glass in salute.


	8. The Harbor

Chapter 8:

A/N: Welcome all! New chapter and a bit longer than normal. I am in the middle of moving and changing jobs so updates may end up being slower than usual. Enjoy!

The bay of White Harbor opened in the distance, merchant ships and fishing vessels gliding before us as we set course for an open dock. The Merman banners flew at every sail, wall and tower though above the New Castle a single Direwolf whipped above all others. Clearly the Manderly's held their oath of fealty as an honor.

Seeing the sailors begin to scurry upon deck I made myself scarce as to not get in their way, my companions doing the same we moved towards the captain at the back of the ship directing operations.

As we got closer, I instructed the servants to begin gathering our belongings and to have mine sent directly to Winterfell, I wouldn't be staying long in White Harbor. Nodding to myself I turned to Theo Wull, "Will you come to Winterfell for the Harvest Festival?" I ask conversationally.

He nodded back, assenting his travel plans in an moon and a half time.

Theo was one of the only lords who stayed behind that lived in the harsh Mountains of the North, the rest of his brethren had left for the North directly from the battlefield under the command of Jeor Mormont, lord of Bear Island, a massive island on the western coast of the North, known for their black bears and she Warriors like Maege Mormont who wields a wicked spiked Mace.

Maege was on the ship alongside Howland, Wendall Manderly brother of Lord Wyman, Roose Bolton, Martyn Cassel, his brother Rodrick, and half a dozen Stark guards and my Banner Lords own escorts. The ship was a gift from the King, a massive Bravosi made ship made for mercantile transport. Already I had half a hundred ideas on how to exploit such a princely gift. A gift may be more of an exaggeration, it was given to me for my help in farretting out the truth of the purposeful misinformation given to Brandon by the bastard Petyr Baelish and Lysa Arryn Nee Tully.

Flash back:

3 week prior.

After meeting with the king I had began Gathering supplies and hiring a ship to take my men and I home North. I decided to take a walk through the city for the first time just to see why so many wished to come to this wretched smelling cesspool.

Flanked by two of my Household guard, Wyl and Artrin I rode out from the Red Keep. We made our way towards the Street of Steel, I had heard it held the best craftsmen in the entire Kingdom. We dismounted and began perusing wares left and right.

Men of every culture I had never seen were calling out trying to barter their trade, from fancy thin water dancing swords to spears of Dorne and even a stall selling 'Goldheart bows' which looked beautiful yet I severely doubted were the genuine article.

Taking my time I inspected several shields and armored coats of steel and hardened leathers at a Master Armourer from the Vale. While I found the plate steel to be too cumbersome the shields were large and well made. I decided to put an order for 200 after the Merchant assured me they would be ready for delivery before the end of the week. Thanking the man I gave him directions to have them brought to the Red Keep, where once the order had been delivered I would have it paid for.

Rhaegar had been very insistent that large orders shouldn't be paid for in advance, too many merchants would disappear without completing their jobs.

Giving the enthusiastic man a nod I turned to face a large shop owned by a Tobho Mott, a Qohori Master Smith whom was well recommended and a new commodity here in King's Landing. Entering the front of the shop, the ring of hammers on metal could be heard from the back room, a young olive skinned girl sat near the back wall, a table cluttered with scrap metals arranged in front of her. She stood up abandoning her tinkering to greet us.

"Milord, how may Master Mott be of assistance today?" A foreign accent coloring her speech, one I could not place.

"I would like to see what the Master has for Armor and possibly to see his sword, poleaxe, and spear selections." I tell her politely.

"Of course my Lord, if you will follow me I shall show you what is on display, Master Mott will join you momentarily."

Nodding my accent I trailed after the girl into an armory style room with row after row of finely made weapons, and then into another filled solely with sets of armor, helms, and the like.

The girl who's name was Melsa bowed and left to find her employer.

Taking a moment to let my eyes search the mannequins of steel armor I took a few steps forward to an exquisite set of light plate armor.

Pale steel with swirls in the steel, made to mimic Valyrian steel no doubt, it was a solid chest piece, with steel plates to cover the entire legs, arms, and gauntlets to protect your hands. Runes of some language filled every inch of the metal, the same swirls in the steel shone as well. It was truly beautiful. The helm was a rounded full head helm with a crown of steel on top, to protect from arrow fire most like.

I lifted the chest piece up and was surprised to see it weighed less than typical armor of its contemporary rivals. Oh I was impressed now.

Nodding to myself I put it back in its place and began looking at the other wares around me.

'I will put an order in for one set for myself, and see about ordering full sets like this, from the thickness they are about and eight of an inch, that seems to be a norm for this Smith.' I think to myself. If I remember correctly most heavy pate was closer to an inch or more from the other smiths on this street!

I was broken from my musing as a darker skinned man, in his latter 20s arrived.

"Ah Ser how my Master Tobho help you today!" The man gave a sweeping bow. An easy smile on his face.

"Master Mott I presume?" I ask humored by the man's antics.

"Yes, it is I!" He laughed out loud, causing me to allow a chuckle.

"This armor is amazing, would it be possible to have a set made before the end of the week, nothing extravagant just how this one here is made please." I say leading him to the pale blue/grey steel I had admired so.

"If you allow me to gather your measurements, this set may just be made for you my Lord!" He tells me as I nod my accent and remove my cloak and hand it to Wyl.

He reached into his Blacksmith smock and produced a round of knotted rope and a similar set of strings. At my questioning look her ushered me towards a clear glass mirror as he began to speak.

"The larger rope is for height, chest and arms, the strings I use for the fingers and head. This set of armor actually a new design I have been able to create from my Qohori training, it follows the process of making Valyrian steel that is partially known, as you know the true way has been lost for nearly 400 years." He says, taking my measurements with an excited voice he continued.

"I have a plate that I can demonstrate its durability in the back if you would like! I also have made some 300 hundred spear heads and a single sword made of the same metal, albeit it is not at the same level of Valyrian steel it is the closest you'll find I can promise you that!" His tone became incredibly proud of his achievement.

I humble agree for the demonstration and asked to see the spears and sword if possible as he finished his measurements and exclaimed.

"Ser please try the armor on! It seems the gods have made their decision!" I did as I was bade and began placing on the armor over my thinly made southern made clothes. The man explained his process of making the armor by hand, ranting that "If my arms didn't tire as all men's do I could make thousands of sets, the process my Lord is simple really if you can keep a secret" he whispers excitedly to me, I nodded in acceptance.

"Fold the metal, beat it, fold, beat and repeat!" He giggles in excitement. I smile and tell him it was the most extraordinary made metal I had ever seen.

'It isn't much, but is folding the metal that important?' I ask myself, resolving to look into it when I return to Winterfell, as our own sword Smith had spent much time in Essos before returning back North to follow in his father's footsteps as the Smith of Winterfell.

"It fits like a second skin!" It tell Mott as I went about moving in the armor, turning to look at myself in the mirror I couldn't help but gasp in shock.

"Damn that looks good Sire!" Astrin called, Wyl quickly agreeing with him.

"Lord Mott I will be purchasing this set today after the demonstration, I would like to see the spears and sword, now though." I tell him, thinking if the armor is as well made as it looked, I would be spending many golden Dragons making me grimace.

'What's the point of hoarding gold if you don't use it' I think, remember my family's habit of hiding away large amounts of gold, a sizeable bit in the Iron bank, the Westerosi Branch that was based here in King's Landing.

Nodding excitedly the man helped me remove the metal coverings and lead us to the first room filled with weapons, specifically to the eastern wall lined with 9 foot spears of the same dull grey/blue steel, the points themselves were a foot long and the spear butts were spiked counter balances as well.

Master Mott picked up one spear, and lead us to another section of racks but for swords of gleaming steel, one in particular stood out as it sat by itself in a cushioned velvet case. Its grey/blue steel was swirled as the armor and spears, but it had been shined to project its superiority of craft. The blade was a bastard longsword and was only two inches in width, a deep fuller running down its blade with runes etches all its length.

The guard was two metal prongs curling slightly up of the same metal, its hand and a half handle made of finely made ironwood leading to a rounded pompel with a hole through it. It looked almost like one of the Swords my uncle Tyne used but straight, double sided, and not curved.the blade was as thin as Ice, the ancestral sword of house Stark.

"Follow me please my Lord." Mott broke me out of my thoughts as he lifted to sword by the handle and made his way towards the door to the front of the store.

We followed after hurriedly, trekking through the second door of the front room which lead to a long hall with many doors leading elsewhere.

We walked through the door of the smithy with the clattering of hammers from apprectinces all whom were incredibly focused upon their craft not bothering to look at us as we passed.

We exited the building in a medium sized courtyard behind the shop, fenced in by high walls on all sides.

"My lord if you'll take this." He handed me the spear and motioned towards a practice target wearing an un polished version of the chest armor I had tried on.

"Please take the spear and attack that Mannequin, I am going to retrieve a crossbow as well!" He calls, handing the sword to Artin and rushing off.

Taking a breath I take a stance and began a series of swings and quick jabs, swirls and slashes taught to me by my Dornish friend Lord Wyvn Vaith.

Feeling warmed up I move to the target and began to replicate my attacks on the unmoving foe. A set of jabs and shuffling back, an attack from the side and a strike from a low guard, using my full strength behind each one I went on and on for nearly 10 minutes finally stopping I turned to the Master Smith a huge smile on my face.

"Not a blood scratch on either!" I tell him to his own knowing grin.

"My Lord, try the sword, see how it feels im had!" He tells me taking the spear as Artin moves to pass me the blade, my guard took turns with the spears as well on imaginary enemies. After all they were the ones who would be using them in the future.

Taking a few calming breaths I move toward the target and start a sequence of strike after strike, flowing from one to another, taking steps here and there slashing and swinging with force. Sparks flew once again as the high quality steel met, yet no notches were made, no rounding or dulling of the blade appeared as I finally stop, sweat pouring from my body, as I laughed out loud.

'It feels like a shorter, more manageable Ice!' I chuckled to myself.

I tell the Master Smith my thoughts, admitting I preferred a bastard Longsword to the Valyrian Greatsword I used.

"You own a Valyrian Greatsword!" The man shouted In astonishment.

Realizing I hadn't even told the man my name I quickly explain who I was.

"Master Tobho Mott I am Lord Eddard Stark, the Warden of the North."

"My word! The quiet wolf indeed sire! I say, if you allow me to study this Ice, I would half the price upon the entire order! I know the correct process of molding the steel but have not the chance to actually test the steel but once when I was an apprentice.!"

Oh hell yes.

I quickly agreed to his terms as we went inside where the girl from before was waiting with a platter of watered wine and foods at a dining table. We sat, including my guard and began haggling over prices for the shipment of spears, the armor and the sword I would be taking with me that day.

In the end with the reduction of price I found little to haggle over and refused to insult the mams craft and pulled out a large purse of gold and counted out the appropriate amount of dragons, and a sizable commission for the man, a letter of writ with my personal seal for the transaction for the spears to the Iron Bank.

Instead of boxing the armor I decided to wear it over the set of mail that the Master gifted to me, and the sword slung over my back I cut an intimidating figure, both guards took a singular spear for themselves and then a bundle for the men at arms I still held in the Capitol.

With new shields and spear for my garrison at Winterfell, and now an incredible set of armor and a beautiful blade on my back as well. I felt light, almost giddy as we rode back towards the Illuminated Red Keep as the sun began to set making the bloody red of the Keep stand out even more.

Reaching the Keep I dismounted ordering the men to give out the spears to their brothers at arms, and decided to take a stroll through the gardens as the sun continued to set.

As I walked slowly through the high bushed maze of colorful flowers, I let the fresh sea air waffe over me and fill me with a sense of peace. Today had been a wonderful day.

Just as I was entering a section of the garden closer to the Western Wall I heard voices in hushed tones.

"Lysa my love, you must tell me why you are so flushed!"

Lysa? As in Tully?

"Oh Petyr! It's terrible being married to that disgusting old man! I don't want to bear him children! I don't want to!" A high pitched voice raged from across the thick bushes.

"My dear you must, he is young husband no?" A the male voice soothed.

"Oh Petyr Father should have had you marry me! Why me? Oh why couldn't he have died like he should have! That letter that wolf bitch sent would have ruined your idea, that's why you burnt it right? So we could marry, when the nasty old man died!"

'What the hell is going on!?' I rage trying to keep my calm as I slowly begin to inch towards the opening of the maze that lead to their side. I needed to see them to be sure.

They continued speaking as I did so.

"We just have to readjust our plans my dear! I am due back to Gulltown and must leave tomorrow to make it, no one knows I am here other than yourself. Yes, the letter would have stopped Brandon Stark and his foolish plan but you made sure he went, to avenge me, oh I will never forget that my dear Lysa." Petyr said sickeningly to the distressed woman.

"He deserved it after what he did to you, oh Petyr my sister was so upset that she had to marry the spare! She wanted to join the silent sisters from the shame of marrying that second born fool Eddard!" She laughed hastily revealing the truth of Catelyn Tully.

'Is that true?' I think to myself as I look up and see a set of mail clad Targaryen men at arms being led by Ser Arthur towards me a smile forming on his handsome face as he opened his mouth to greet me.

Quickly raising a hand slicing the air in front of my throat I crouched back down gesturing for the men to do the same.

Immediately Ser Arthur's face morphed into a serious one and did as I had gestured and crept towards me guards in tow not making a sound as they heard Lysa and Petyr continue their damning confession.

"This is what you must do my dear, so that we can be together, you must do your duty and keep me apprised with everything you hear, I will be working in Gulltown and once I have made a name for myself you can get your Lord Husband to bring me here to become the Master of Coin." Petyr Baelish tells her, as she replies I could hear fabrics moving.

"Oh yes, anything to be with you Petyr!"

I looked over at the guards and Ser Arthur who looked as pale as I. Nodding to Arthur I gesture for the guards to take point on either side of the maze as Ser Arthur and I would rush in with swords drawn to capture the couple in the act.

Once I saw that we were on the same page Arthur and I both gripped our weapons and launched around the final bend drawing our blades coming face to face and a half naked Lysa Tully sitting upon the cock of a dark haired slight of build man with his britches around his ankles sitting upon a stone bench.

"You are hereby under arrest in the name of the King!" I roar sword pointed steadily at Lysa Tully's back. Arthur spoke next as I tried to reign in my fury.

"You will stand slowly wench! Boy if you so much as move suddenly without my saw so I'll gut you." His menacing voice hissed from clenched lips.

"No! No! Petyr please do something!" Lysa began to wail Muttering and sobbing rocking back and forth on the mans still sheathed cock.

Baelish's face showed horror and would have been pale as milk if it weren't for his cock being ridden which just made red as the castle we stood in.

Calling the guard over they each took hold of the thrashing woman, at which point the Baelish man had obviously released his seed from the look on his face.

Arthur personally took control of Petyr as we marched the duo through the Castle, men and women, commoners and nobles alike openly gossiping and gasping as we passed, making our way to the black cells where Baelish was secluded in one cell, and Lysa in the other each of the Guards taking post outside until gaolers could be fetched.

The screaming of the Tully was unbearable as we marched our way out of the cells, when Arthur turned towards me and spoke.

"I had been commanded by the King to find you for the Royal family wished you to join them supper, now we must break such news to the King and Lord Arryn." His voice low and filled with anger.

Anger that my own heart felt. Jon. Of no. This was going to destroy him, he had fallen for the young red headed girl that I knew.

Present:

It had been the scandal of the year, the most talked about gossip since before the war. Rhaegar was furious something not many had ever seen before after telling him of what I had heard. Lyanna hadn't said a word while I had told my tale, but I could see the blood of the wolf was rising in her, and Jon. Well Jon looked hurt, but oddly almost relieved as well.

In the end Baelish had not been given a trial and not given the choice of the Wall, he was executed by my own blade two days later, and Lysa was sent to the Silent sisters to atone for her sins.

Rhaegar had gifted me the Ship Blue Wind in payment even though I tried to decline Lyanna made me accept it. So now we were disembarking to a retinue of Lord Wyman and his heir Wylis Manderly.

Wyman was a large fat man, if I was being honest. He however was one of my most loyal bannermen and held the eastern coast and protected all our trade with Essos, he was my Naval expert and a dear friend of House Stark.

"Lord Stark! It's a pleasure to see you! White Harbor is yours sire!" He said while taking a step and dropping to one knee.

"Please my lord no need for that, Thank you for the warm welcome, it warms my North soul to back north!" I say, garnering a loud cheer from all around us as I help Wyman off his knee, he really was too large to be doing such a thing safely.

"Sire would you grace us with your presence for the eve?" His face hopeful.

Biting my tongue I nodded my acceptance of his hospitality, as his son offered the same to his peerage that travelled with me.

What followed was a, well, what felt like a never ending course of food. Seafare, veal, boar, light chicken dishes, and beef of every make and those I had not seen before. Manderly's could party that is for sure.

I sat at the head of the main table next to Wyman and Howland on my other side.

The night continued in that order as the main courses ended bards and fools began to entertain the gathered nobles, many whom had followed from King's Landing at the Manderly's request. I could see from my seat that Wyman had pushed is food away and was making hand gestures to servants before turning to speak with Howland and I.

"My Lord, you it be possible to meet in my solar to speak? At your discretion sire." He said as I listened intently, internally nodding to myself.

"Aye, now would be fine my Lord." I tell him glad to have an excuse to leave the merriment of the colorful and extremely loud hall.

He smiled toothily as he nodded and waved a chubby hand to motion me to follow him as he stood, Wylis following our migration to the Solar of the Merman of New Castle.

"Sire," he began as we were finally sat arranged around his stout office desk, horns of ale and mead in the gathered lords hands.

"I wished to speak to you of ramping up trade with the Essosi in Bravos, Qohor, and Pentos specifically as they each are in demand of our exports of lumbar and furs in the last few years."

"What do you mean? I wasn't aware we had such a trade agreements in place?" I say confused, leaning forward to look the man in the eye. I had plans do just this after all, however I might have miscalculated if it was already a lucrative industry, and how it was without my knowledge.

"No my Lord! It has only been a slight trade from the local market that has sent fur and lumber from my own lands in the past 3 years. I wish to do this on a large scale but I know I needed the approval of the Warden however your father, the gods rest his soul, would not allow it." He says in explanation assuaging my worries.

"Why is that?"

"He only spoke of closer relations to the south my Lord. He said that if we wished to prosper we would have to tie ourselves to the lower Kingdoms, my Lordâ .." He paused before continuing after a nod of encouragement from me. "It truly put myself and many others on edge, that we could not expand trade and business to the East, I know the KarStarks and the Bolton's wished to do something similar." He reveals.

'Never trust a Bolton.' I could hear my grandfather say in my head.

"You have my approval, however all lumber shipments and fur will pass through King's Landing that will be sent to the other Kingdoms, as per an agreement I signed with the King. A tax of 5% of the overall of each shipment will go to the Crown, and soon we will have ships filled with Flea Bottom Serfs that will be working the New Gift. Any shipments sent directly to Essos will be levied as per normal, however House Stark will also begin to take part in this Mechant business." Tell the men around me.

I look over at Howland who looked as if he wished to say something.

"Howland?"

"Ned, the Neck has much to offer and I would like to begin trading more often with the north. After all, Lizard Lion skin and meat are excellent fare." He tells us all.

"The hide of Lizard Lions are tougher than leathers and we have waterways that could benefit the North with traversing to the Riverlands as well as shipments of coal and Iron and other such resources don't have to go through King's Landing, correct?" He said

"That it is." I smile back at my friend

"Lord Manderly, I will be leaving my ship in your hands for now, it will be used for transporting merchandise for now." I say, though Wyman was already nodding his acceptance of the task.

"It will be my House's please to look after your flag Ship my Lord!"

"Thank you Wyman."

"To the North!" Wylis calls, raising his horn high.

"To the North!" We replied, draining our cups.

"Ned, what resources have been found on your lands so far?" Howland asked as we reclined back in our seats.

"Well, the Northern Hills above Winterfell carries more metals than I can count, but Iron, tin, copper, and Silver from What's been surveyed. The silver has a camp of guards protecting the area currently, and coal has already begun to be mined south of Winterfell.

Though Benjen has said that our lands farther north are incredibly untouched, and that there are pockets full of stones and gold waiting.those sites are highly guarded as well. Our Jarls are keeping the peace and protecting our lively hood, at the same time." I tell them all, though Howland already knew most of this.

"Wyman those people from King's Landing will begin arriving in the coming weeks, I will send you a list of where to direct each ship load soon. The majority will settle the New Gift, though I plan to have several of the less populated villages near long lake and the Rills begin to be settled as well. "

"You wish to spread the immigrantion so that they are surrounded by Northerns and are able to assimilate more smoothly." He summarizes for me.

"Yes." I say simply knowing what 10s of thousands of new labor could do.

"And religion my lord?" Wyman asks softly.

"I will not deny those men and women their gods, but I will not allow zealots to harm our people, any and all Septons or septas should be reviewed by yourself as the protector of the faith, and finally by myself. Those septons that wish to cut down weirwoods and cause riots will be excluded from coming to my North." I tell him seriously.

For his part Wyman nodded sighing in relief and acceptance.

"That is more than reasonable, sire. As I do with all Septons here in White Harbor they will be vetted accordingly and will be monitored juay as closely I do here."

Always dependable those Manderly's I couldn't help but laugh to myself.

I bide the men good night as I stumbled to my chambers, I haven't drank that much since I was a boy with Robert. Thinkings of him made my chest hurt, my brother by choice hadn't come to King's Landing and I had only a scarce amount of letters from the man. He was adjusting to life as the True Lord of Storm's End I knew. He had spoke of sending his brother Renly North in his letters, so that he could 'Toughen up' or something to that effect.

No, Robert did not wish to see the Queen, and how could I blame him? He was spurned and started a war for a woman who left on her own volition. I knew Robert would have to Marry soon, but would his whoring end? I didn't know.

He was a good man, I knew it, and so did others but his penchant for beautiful woman and drink were what scared me, those could kill a man quicker than a dagger.

I'll have to see him again, I resolved.

I had made it to my bed and passed out soon after.

Two weeks later of slow travel forced me to realize that I hated it, but finally Winterfell was but minutes away.

My party rode through the massive stone gateway of the southern gate avoiding going through Winter Town. We entered the courtyard as I lead by dismounting and turning to those that had gathered to welcome me home.

Benjen stood at the front, Catelyn at his side with a bundle in her arms.

Quickly I rushed forward dismissing protocol and with a look of trepidation on my face stopped short of my beautiful red haired wife.

"Lord Husband, Your son, Robert." She said quietly head bowed.

"My Lady. " I hesitate

She looked up with surprise on Her face at my soft tone.

She held the bundle out to me, tufts of dark brown hair peaked out, highlights of auburn when the sun shone on it.

Without a word I reached out and took the boy from her arms and found a set of grey/blue eyes staring back at me.

"My Son!" I shout in delight, holding the boy close as I state in wonder at the heir of Winterfell.

I stood like that for minutes, I couldn't say for sure how long. I was in awe of my child, my perfectly healthy child.

After a time I returned the child to his mother and cleared my voice as I turn towards my brother who held his own smile as we greet each other with a firm hug.

"Lord Stark, Winterfell is yours " Ben swept in a low bow, semi mockingly as we laughed and hugged again. He then turned and introduced me to the Maester, on his left, and as our custom I introduced myself to our servants and staff , and welcomed them as part of the family.

We retired to father's, well, my Solar to speak, Catelyn joined us as did the Maester.

I entered the round stone tower room, with its high windows that ran the entire length of the room, giving you the best view of all of Winterfell.

"Thank you Ben for doing this for me. Without you the North would have fallen into disarray." I tell my brother warmly.

"It was my duty Ned, though we will have much to talk about, there has been some going ons with Skagos and Skane in the last few months that I need to speak to you on, privately. " he tells me with, what looked like a blush? On his face?

"Oh course we can do so in the morning, Catelyn, tell me how was the ride from Riverrun? Are you well?" I ask suddenly, trying to bring my new wife into the fold.

She shifted In her seat with a dour look on her face.

"I did not realize I disliked travelling in a carriage my Lord, until this trip North." She said somewhat disgruntled, i could see the bruises under not only her eyes but Ben's, and the tight look he gave me when I spoke to her.

Filing away that tidbit I continued asking my wife questions as nicely as I possibly could until she rose and spoke of setting a feast she wished to oversee and bade me farewell in a still lukewarm way.

"Ben.." I started as the door closed behind her.

"She's a southron woman brother." Was his immediate reply.

I sigh, knowing there was more to it.

Ben noticed this and reached for the pitcher of ale, with ice in it and pour us each a healthy amount as he began to explain.

"She showed up and demanded that I give control of Winterfell to her. I politely declined and explained it was not our way. I swear brother I have tried to be as courteous as I could. But she has continued attempting to undermine every decision I have made. Luckily most of the servants have been with the family for years, Maester Lewin.." He gestured towards the man,

"He is a man of the North and knows our customs and everytime she wanted something done that was not acceptable he would allow me to know. Ned right now she hates me." He summed up his experience.

Before I could say anything Benjen continued.

"She ordered the men to begin building a Sept Ned! The men were furious! It took me days to get the chaos under control, and she's your wife so I couldn't be seen going against her. It has been a nightmare. " he took a long draw from his cup.

"No sept will be built in Winterfell." I say automatically. Others could have them, but not in Winterfell, my North Banners would rebel and go against me if I allowed this.

"My Lord, if I may." The Maester spoke up for the first time.

I nodded my assent.

"I have slowed the process and told the Lady that it would take time, it has calmed her for now. However we have began the repairs and renovations on the broken tower and the First Keep, both should be completed within 1 year. " he reported respectfully.

I could tell why Ben like the Maester so well, no southron ambitions.

"Thank you Maester, what of the surveyors?" I ask, might as well get the important business completed first.

"Sire, they have beens ending reports, there in the leather binder you'll find each under a tab for the type of metal or resource that has been found." He points out from his chair next to Benjen, a smile on Benjens face very much making him look like the boy he still was at 16.

"Ned. I went ahead and mapped out settlements and new Jarls to oversee the transportation and housing of people." Ben tells me, also point out another stack of folders for me to peruse.

"Maester send a copy of this map and instructions to White Harbor, Lord Wyman will coordinate the migration." I say handing him the map after looking it over, Pleased.

"Ser Rymer, and Ser Jaeger have already left to take up there duties at the Long Lake towns"

I had sent The Mooten men North with the rest of the men. I decided to give them each control of half of Long Lake each, Rymer the Northern half and Jaeger the southern, that say they could hand the shipping of good, and still be able to be independent lords on their own right. They both too 250 men apiece and this was the first report of them since leaving.

"From what I have been told they have been received well, as Long Lake hasn't had a lord in centuries. The long houses are in good repair so neither man should have much renovations to complete, they have both made deals to marry. Rymer with one of the Umber women, and Jaeger with a Dornish woman who had marched in your host I believe. " Benjen reports respectfully, another stack of papers in hand.

"They have both taken new Surnames and new emblems for their house's. Ser Rymer's a picture of a blue Long Lake one a white background and a dagger in the middle. For ser Jaeger he has also taken the Long Lake but white on a black background and a spear in the middle. Their surnames are Lord Rymer Blake and Lord Jaeger Slake." At this neither Ben nor I could keep our laughter in.

"Ha haha!" They were good men, but their names were not original. 'Blake for Blue lake, and Slake for Southern lake.

We laughed a while until we finally calmed down and spoke of Jarls that would make good aldermen to some of the settlements, and some that were distinguished enough to become Lords of larger lands that could help govern Stark lands farther North.

A servant came to alert of the feast and the three of us left with smiles upon our faces as we went across the Courtyard to reach the Great hall, i could see the masons and craftsman working on the First Keep already, building it into a larger structure and building expansions to a new set of guest houses.

In the distance I could see the Broken tower not so broken anymore, scaffolding and men seemed to cover its entire height as they turned the burned husk back into the largest tower in Winterfell.

Upon entering the great Hall I could see many of my Jarls sitting at lower tables separate from the four large long tables I was used to.

"Ben." I started, and he just shook his head.

"She is at it again." He muttered exasperated.

"Men! There seems to be a mistake, please help me to readjust the tables as how they should be!" I call loudly gathering the attention of the hall. Jarls and guardsmen alike jumped at my words and began to lift the tables and turn them to reconnect to the other four. The only table that was by itself was the high table that was for family and honored noble guests, everyone else sat as equals during feasts. During regular mornings and meals the family would typically sit among the men.

"Lady wife." I say as Ben, the Maester and I joined her.

"Where is Robb?" I ask conversationally.

"Oh he is down for a nap husband." She said quietly, focusing on her food.

"Cat." I say more softly, catching her attention.

She looks up at me.

"I know Winterfell is different and our customs are not what you are used to, but please give us chance, our ways are not as savage as the south believes." My words were soft, politely trying to convey my need for her to adapt.

"Of course Ned.. It is just so hard, I can't even do my duty as your wife and control the company." She huffs

"A stark must always control Winterfell, Ben did his duty as he was expected to. You will find that there is much for you to do I promise, the North is going to change and I will need my wife by my side to do what I must do."

"What do you mean?" She asks as servants began setting out the large roasts and various vegetables for the feast. A bards band was playing off to one side, who they hell they were I knew not, but it sounded good.

"Right now the King is organizing transport for 10s of thousands of men and women to be shipped North to begin to settle land on the gift and work in shipping and mining industries that are being opened. I will need your help to settle many duties as Ben and I will need help with sending supplies and men to these villages. " I explained to her, seeing I had her interest I continued.

"I wish to have a harvest festival in a moons time as well, I will need your help to set this up and for settling the Northern Lords when they arrive."

"Oh! We have so much to do Ned!" She exclaimed at the thought of noble guests.

"Ned, why did you rearrange the tables? It isn't proper for guards and those vagabonds to sit with proper nobles." She said, though I could tell it wasn't out of spite.

"All men are treated equally under the Lords of the North. Guards protect us, and those men are my Jarls, they collect taxes, patrol the vast range of lands of House Stark and are land owners who run farmers all around Winterfell.

These men keep order in the North, they act as elite guards if you will and lead men and dispense courtly decisions In my stead when I am too far away." I explained to her as we ate, all the while she stayed quiet.

"So they are like stewards or sheriff's in the Riverlands?" She asks me.

"Yes, they do it all. It is an old term repurposed for the modern day, just as the Starks are called Magnars in the mountains or Skagos and Skane." I helped clarify.

Beside me Ben nearly choked on his drink as I mentioned the islands.

'We will have to talk about that later.' I say to myself as the feast continued and the Jarls all came one by one to swear fealty to me officially, more than three fourths of our active Jarls had travelled to greet me before heading back out to finish the Harvest collections.

The night finished with desserts of lemon cakes and various fruits from the southern part of the North.

That night Cat led me to our chambers, the Lords suite was massive and well maintained as Ben had made sure it was ready for Cat when she arrived.

For the first time since I married her we fell asleep in each other's arms.


	9. chapter 9

It was a month after returning to Winterfell that I finally felt myself relaxing into the position of Warden. The Northern Lords and Jarls, and petty vassals began to arrive in numbers for the Northern Harvest festival, the cycle of taxes had been collected and the first ship load of migrants had landed at White Harbor.

Cat had begun helping in all manners, organizing rooms and having the servants redo the rushes and airing out long unused guest houses. Though all finance was handled by Myself with Ben acting as the unofficial Castellen, That is until he departs to take ownership of the ruined tower keep, Queen's Crown, and begin the building of the new Castle that would be taking its place. The current tower of Queens Crown was a massive singular tower in the middle of a lake with a small abandoned village known for its apple and fruit orchards. Ben would be setting out with the first group of migrants in a few weeks time, builders had been dispatched a month prior to begin setting foundations, though we knew it would take many years for the new Keep to be raised.

Winterfell was ancient. The broken tower and first keep amongst the oldest. Ned had been busy in recent weeks, preparing both for the harvest, the meeting of his banners, and the planning for the restoration of the aforementioned structures.

The castle could house thousands at the moment, but once the buildings were repaired and the new barracks raised 10s of thousands could be housed instead.

Overlooking the training yard, and his vassals Lord Stark allowed himself a small smile.

Before him were his men at arms training with their spears in hand, and a few of his Jarls and their sworn swords trained as well.

The sight of the two hundred men putting their sweat, blood, and drive into honing their skills made their lord proud.

' They'll be given extra rations tonight.' Ned thought quietly to himself, pacing away from the ledge of his vantage point, gesturing for sir Rodrik Cassel a northern knight, ordained under a weir tree instead of the seven. A man who was part of the newest branch of warriors of the North, the knights of the laughing tree.

His brother Sir Martyn Cassel was the head of Stark house guard and he was the Master at arms.

They were two of the North's best, and swore to serve House Stark leaving their youngest brother as head of house Cassel, which was half a day's ride from Winterfell.

"Rodrik any stand outs so far?"

"A few milord, a young man named Srvyn from Wintertown has shown great talent and has a solid mind for tactics. With some experience and education he would serve you well as a wolf's guard." The knight reported as they reached the training grounds ringing with steel and the huffs of men.

Nodding silently I quickly filed the information away.

"Another…" the man started hesitantly.

Shooting him a look of confusion, it wasn't like the ser to hesitate.

Staring back at his liege he spoke with confidence.

"A lady from Bear Island has been trashing the men with a hand axe and shield. Though she can use about any weapon put in her hand, she is another I would suggest sire. Her name is Linsa." He finished.

Understanding crossed my mind as I listened. Even though Northern women fought, it was still uncommon outside of Bear Island, the mountain clans or even the Umber lands.

"Call them forth." I commanded quietly.

Nodding, Sir Rodrik rushed to follow the order.

A minute passed as two people trailed the brown haired knight, both well over 6 feet tall, and soaked in sweat.

"Sire!" They called, falling to a knee in front of him.

"Rise! And let me see you." I said, my voice clear and commanding as glaciers in the bay of ice.

They did as he bade, the man Srvyn was a dark haired man, no more than 18, and the woman hair black as a raven was of a similar age, both looked at him in reverence.

"I am told you are both excellent in combat and have the mind of warriors. Do you wish to serve the House of Stark, and the North?" I asked, not bothering with small talk.

"Yes milord!" They called loudly, chests puffed out in pride.

"So be it, from this moment forward you will both be under the direct command of Sir Martyn Cassel and will be required to take lessons with our Maester in both history, politics and your letters if you don't already have them. When he deems it time, if or when you are ready you will be knighted under a weir tree to serve in the Wolf's Guard."

The looks on their faces told me all I needed to know. These two would be the first of the elite warriors of the Northern Brotherhood.

"Very good. Lord Cassel I leave it to you." The Lord of Winterfell said, giving the man a nod.

Turning away I took a leisurely pace towards his study, many ideas forming in his mind as he strode through the grounds.

Bear Island women were more than Just wives. They were warriors, even though they did the duties of running households they still fought and trained alongside the men.

'Why then has Stark Women not followed suit?' The Lord Stark mused to himself as he entered the solar, ordering his guards to stand outside the door.

Eyes sweeping the room, a glint caught my eye across the left side of the room behind the weir wood desk and saddled up against the large bookshelves crammed with scrolls and books.

Pacing across the room I leaned forward to see what had caught the light.

There on the edge of a middle shelf was ornate wolfs statue, maws open and jade for eyes and teeth. I reached out a hand and gently caressed the ancient token, only for my thumb to glide down across a fang spilling my maroon blood into its mouth.

Cursing my stupidity I place the digit in my mouth, as I did so the jade eyes seemed to glow brightly and the sound of stone sliding against stone filled my ears, though I mutely noted it was a dull sound, I doubted anyone else would have heard it.

To my astonishment the narrow wall between the shelf and the opposite wall slide aside revealing a set of stone steps spirling downward.

"What the Fuck!?" I let slip from my tongue.

Hesitantly shuffling to the wall I removed a torch and slide my dirk from my belt and with a steading breath began my descent.

The air was still as I maneuvered downward, the stones neither dusty nor worn by time, they seemed as if they had been used frequently. Though I knew logically it was impossible as only father or Brandon would have known of this.

Still I followed the steps leading me deeper and deeper, after minutes had ticked by I knew I must be under the Castle Foundation, just as the thought crossed my mind the stairs opened to a long corridor with cobbled stones embedded into the floor, portraits of men and wolves adorned the walls, tapestries of ancient battles hung mightily beside them. And all between were a series of heavy looking doors leading to a massive double door at the end of the hall.

Reaching for the set of keys on my belt I began fitting the ones I did not know their purposes.

One of the unassuming iron keys clicked into place after a moment, leading me to crack the door open.

Leading with the torch I crept forward, curiosity burning in my stomach, feeling along the wall closest the door I found a series of scones with what looked like murky red crystals embedded into them.

The curiosity reared even further as my palm passed over the crystal brushing it, and to my astonishment.. The entire chamber was filled with a warm mysterious red glow.

I stumbled back as the room was illuminated fully. Room would be an understatement, it was more a massive rounded hall, possibly 30 feet in height, and 100 feet from the walls on either side of the door to the other, and in length some 400 feet from door to the end of the back wall.

The biggest factor of my shock was what filled the chamber.

Treasures, gold, silver, precious stones, the walls covered in shelves with artifacts of old.

At the back of the chamber were chest after chest stacked from floor to ceiling. Crates overspilling with the aforementioned loot.

Mannequins fitted in expensive armours, and even more weapons of every make and type filled racks here and there. But what called to me was a section near the back left.

It was a perhaps, 15 by 15 space of tall shelves and bookcases crammed with books and scrolls, none of which showed any sign of damage.

'What the hell is all of this?!'


	10. Interlude

It was early morning, the sun just barely breaching the clouds, illuminating the fresh blanket of untouched snow in a soft Orange glow of sunrise.

My solar was cool, the fireplace having lost its roaring warmth many hours past leaving behind the coals smoldering persistently in the hearth.

Though cool, the room was not overtly uncomfortable. The heavy bear skin thrown over my shoulders kept me pleasant, as did the horn of ale I had kept full throughout the evening.

Blinking away the weariness from my eyes I took in the view from the tall window overlooking the grounds, towers, and the acres of land surrounding my ancestral home.

I watched as the early risers, cooks, guards, servants began to crisscross the grounds with a swiftness in their steps, some without cloaks to ward off the harsh morning chill.

A frown tugged at my lips as I thought of the residents of Winterfell.

'Everyone who works in the household should be treated as family, after all they are the reason for how smooth it runs.' I thought to myself humming quietly.

'Maybe a cloak, or Jerkin with the Direwolf embroiled on to the padding?' Resolving to speak to Cat about gathering the supplies and woman power to do so.

It would be something for her to do, and get her to lay off of the servants.

The house steward, and head of the servants Vaylon Poole, had been subtly hinting at getting her to let the household out of her chokehold.

I couldn't help but chuckle, that woman had more spark than I gave her credit for.

This was the first night I hadn't gone to her bed since I had returned from the south, and each night she did her duty with a shy smile upon her face.

'She is beautiful, I could come to love her.'

Sighing and shaking my head to rid myself of unneeded distractions I turned back to the desk with the large tome placed upon it.

It was the founders book, rewritten in the common language and added to by previous lords, though my own father hadn't done so himself.

No, the last Stark to have access to the secret stash was my grandfather.

Because he didn't trust his own son to follow the laws of house Stark he instead had planned only on passing it onto Brandon before his death.

However from what I have deduced, it never came to be, or else Brandon would never have gone South as father planned.

The heartache came and went as I worked my way through the sections of the tome. Long gone Starks and their memoirs of the Others, and the battles that followed.

There were accounts of every major conflict, battle, trade agreement, secret Alliance, and a running account of how much treasure lay hidden beneath the Keep.

Reaching the last entry of the account I saw it was from 13 years prior when grandfather was still Lord.

Gold 2.3 million dragons, 13 million Northern gold

Silver 31 million Northern silver 2 million silver dragons

Copper crowns 910,500 dragon crowns

Jewels 200,120 completed jewels, appraised at 10 million gold

Uncut stones 84,230 appraised at 6 million gold.

*6 Valyrian steel swords, 1 dagger.

Dragonglass

"Grandson,

every generation adds to our wealth, what you see here is the gathered wealth of nearly 9 thousand years of frugality, ruthless bartering, and the mining and storing of stones and metals.

One day when the North is in need this wealth will give us the edge we need to survive. Winter is coming. "

Rereading the passage I thought of all the snippets of wisdom from grandfather before I was sent to the Vale.

Remembering the looks of discontent that he would send father when da would bring up the south, of how the North must be tied to the southrons and their wealth, their prestige.

Spending hours reading the words of elder Stark men and their era of rule, my ancestors, was nothing short of amazing.

Feeling the morning sun fully on my face I decided to close the tome and place in in my desk for later study and go and break my fast with my wife.

Taking a short detour to my chambers to freshen up and change I saw that Cat was up as well, the look she gave me as I stumbled in was of apprehension and curiosity.

"Husband…"

"I've been in the solar, going over important documents my lady." I said, though my voice came out hoarse from the hours without speaking.

"What were they, my Lord?" She persisted, finishing with hair, and reaching for a heavy wool cloak.

" An account of my ancestors, of the land, resources, and their rules." I told her, not mentioning any of the important pieces of information.

" All night reading history?!" She said in an amused snort.

"It drew me in, honestly it is the most intriguing information I've ever learned. It will one day help the North prosper farther than we could have ever hoped." I told her vaguely, being honest to win her trust.

"I see.. " she said before switching the subject.

"The festival will begin soon my Lord, I have directed the servants to pay special care of the more important lords." She stated quite proudly, but her smile turned into confusion as she saw my frown.

" Lord Poole is in charge of the servants, Cat. He has been given orders to treat all guests the same, and it would not do well for one of my Vassals to see special treatment going to one of their peers. All Northern lords peers, we cannot disturb the balance or it will cause an uproar." I say quietly.

She looked at me aghast, and spoke, "What am I to do. If I cannot run a household here Ned!? What is my purpose? Am I just to bear your children like catt--" I cut her off before she woke up the entire castle.

"You are my wife, and I wish for you to be involved, but you must let go of these preconceived notions of your duty in the North, while looking down upon my household staff, my warriors, my people.

I know you have been griping about not having a Sept in this 'desolate castle' as you put it the other day.

You could attempt to bring the ladies and wives together, whether it's for sewing or looking after their needs, or the needs of the orphanage we are building in town.

But let the men and women I hired to do their work as they are meant to, treat them with respect, they are part of our household and duty." I finished my lecture, calm as could be, though I knew she would be cross with me for days to come, it was needed.

As I placed a new tunic on, I felt her hands touch my shoulders and her voice soft as cotton speak.

"It's all so different here Ned, I'm having a hard time, and I want to help! But I know you are right. I have been acting as a southron woman when I am the wife of the Warden of the North, I have to show everyone that I am worthy of being so. Can you help me please?" She asked, her arms wrapping around my shoulders, her tears wetting the material.

Turning her around and setting her on my lap I held her close, breathing in her scent.

"Of course I will, I know we seem barbaric and without the class and culture of the South, but look deeply these next few days, the festival will give you a broader understanding of our people." I said.

I took her in with my eyes, I knew she was beautiful when we married, but seeing her near blood colored hair fall over my shoulders and the angelic graces of her lips, the electric blue of her eyes, I knew she was more than beautiful.

We stayed that way for sometime, not bothering to move as we basked in each other's warmth.

Maybe all she needed was support, maybe I haven't seen her for what and who she was since the beginning. A person, not my brothers betrothed or a dainty southern woman.


End file.
